Blood Passion
by Gil-dae
Summary: It has been five years since Jack lost his love, Will, to the sea. But maybe Will didn't die in that terrible storm. Jack sets out to find his lover, but is Will even alive? Or is he simply chasing a dream...a dream that could find him dead.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

            If you did not know, this is slash, so don't flame me for writing a slash story!  

            Notes:  There will be many flashbacks in this story.  I am going to mark them with "~~~~~~~~~~~~~".  Dreams will be in italics, along with thoughts and other such conversations with oneself.  All other markers will be traditional.  It isn't that complicated, but I needed to make note of it.  

            Hope you enjoy the story!

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            Jack Sparrow's eyes stung and this wasn't just because of the familiar salt spray.  No, he was below deck, huddled in his cabin on the two-person bed.  His mind was in a state of hysteria, even three weeks after the incident.  The full truth had not penetrated to his lowest layers of existence; therefore, he was still alive.  

            Will was still alive, that is.  

            "Will," Jack mumbled so unlike himself.  He looked to the other side of the bed.  It was as if Will's body made indentions on those sheets now, and even with Jack's mad tossing and turning, he could not erase them.  The man's imprint was still there, his smile, his frown, his sigh, his laugh, his warmth, his gentle touch...

           Jack freed himself from these miserable recollections, too close to the brink of breakdown.  He couldn't collapse, not just yet.  He was still a captain, wasn't he?  He was a pirate captain at that.  

            _How can I say that when this is Will?  Will was such a good friend.  Will was more than just that.  Will, my love, Will!  He cried out into the abyss of his ravaged mind.  There was no answer though, not even a little spark of hope, nothing.  All traces of dreams departed along with that body, whisked away in the frothing waves.  _

            Was it not enough for Jack almost to lose his ship?  Must the injury only increase with the loss of Will?  He pounded his fist on the mattress, letting free a great roar.  How could it happen to Will?  Why not someone, anyone, else?  Why Will?

            "The whelp," he muttered.  He cast his eyes about the room.  Most memories of Will he had moved into one corner: his trunk and other belongings all together.  He most likely would have had it that way; Will was always a little fussy of the placement of the items.  Still, Jack kept their shared cabin a wreck, strewing his belongings wherever suited him, tossing discarded rum jugs to the floor, leaving out maps, putting his effects in whatever place best suited him.  In the process, this scattered Will's things, and he gave up in trying keeping them orderly.  

            Looking across the floor now, Jack's eyes came to rest on a small piece of metal.  He looked at it strangely.  He rose from the bed and approached it, gingerly lifting it from the floor.  It was a flat, round, silver object in fact.  Engraved on it was a ship, sails free, water scattered around it.  Little scatterings of gems made up the sky and water, along with some of the ship's planking.  Jack turned it over in his hands and found an inscription on the back.  

            "_For my dear Willam who I fear I will never set eyes upon again."  There was no name on it, but Jack needed no name to register it.  It was the small gift Elizabeth gave to Will, a token of their faded love.  Will treasured it as a small memoir of his abandoned life long ago.  Jack looked outward to the sea now, wondering briefly if he should toss it in so it might be closer to Will; the boy was so loath to part with it.  Jack hesitated just a moment, running his hand along the inscription again.  _

            No, he would keep it.  Maybe, just maybe, Will was out there.  Even Elizabeth only made a guess in that inscription (though she had unwavering hope for the smallest of things).  Jack had to look again at those sails and just pray that Will lived, somehow.  Maybe a ship rescued him.  Maybe somehow, after flying into the crashing waves, he did in fact life.  

            With new determination, Jack put the silver in his pocket and strode (he had not been drinking as much as usual, in a memory of Will's hatred for his constant state of drunkenness) out into the fading evening light. 

***

            "Cap'n, ye know this's risky," Anamaria reminded Jack as he climbed into the boat.  Jack looked over his shoulder to her and flashed a grin.  

            "No, it isn't.  I'm leaving the Pearl in good hands, and I'm sure she won't be too angry at my return, especially with the news I bring."  His smile faded, replaced by the all too familiar sulk.  His eyes dimmed, and he gave the signal to lower it slowly.  

            "Aye, aye cap'n," she replied, "we'll be waitin' for ye 'ere."  Jack smiled a small smile and rowed out into the darkness, leaving the crew alone to wait those long hours for their captain.  

            Jack knew very well what he was doing was risky.  He had all the chances of being recaptured and charged for the same crimes and hung, but his heart would not settle unless he confronted Elizabeth again.  He couldn't leave her in the dark about Will, not when she cared so deeply about him.  No, it was time to face those streets of Port Royal again, time to confront the lass one last time.  

            Jack tried to recall every bit of information he knew about the town, what streets there were, what we less traveled than most.  He had to avoid one street at all costs.  If caught there, his entire plan would shatter in just moments.  One swinging sign could throw him off in seconds.  Sadly, that was the only street he paused on long enough to notice visible markers, so he would have to find another way to the governor's mansion, where he suspected Elizabeth still lived.  

            He stowed the boat in the darkest place on the docks, stepping off very lightly so he wouldn't alert any of the watchmen.  Jack took a deep breath and darted from shadow to shadow, avoiding large pools of light or wandering bodies of men.  

            Once in the town itself, he found this a much easier task.  There were a few occasional lamps up here and there in front of taverns, but nothing more.  It wasn't as if those drunken men would notice him if they saw him; it had been almost six months since he last set foot here.  So, he casually sauntered up the street, keeping his hat low and not taking too fast of a pace so he didn't attract attention.  First and foremost was getting to Elizabeth; he could not stand a confrontation right now.  

            After a long walk, he found it easier to see the mansion upon the hill.  He guessed the main road led up to it, so he kept going on this wide expanse.  Not many people traversed it either, for it was almost midnight at least.  There was an occasional drunk, but they would wave to Jack only.  He did not give a response back to them, so they passed him by.  

            Jack was almost there, he could see.  He quickened his pace, ready to make it there.

            Something stopped him.  

            It was as simple as the creaking of a sign, but it made Jack turn to the right, where an old street led off.  A sign blew in the wind, creaking on its wooden hinges.  Jack watched it swing, and when it caught a bit of light, he saw its familiar surface.  There was the shop that began his love, there sat the place where he set eyes on the greatest of men; there was the blacksmith's shop.  

            Jack's resolved wavered, his feet propelling him towards that sign.  He forcefully stopped.  It took him great effort to stop from screaming and cursing and yelling at that shop, stop him from crying to Will.  Still, he managed to keep quiet and stopped his progress.  After five minutes, he had the will to turn around.  He could not bear the sight of that shop any more.  

            The governor's mansion was nothing spectacular compared to some houses Jack had seen, but it was large and daunting for his task.  Firstly, he did not know where Elizabeth slept.  There were so many rooms that he had just as much chance of accidentally stumbling upon the governor's room.  That would put a cork (or a knot, really) in any further plans.  Well, he would have to guess.  Rubbing his hands together, he approached one side the building.  It was dark save one candle burning in a solitary second story room.  Jack took a gander and decided to try this first.  

            There were some vines growing up the brick, but he did not know how firm they were.  So, he stood on the first story windowsill and stretched up; there was about five feet space between him arm and that lighted window.  He grasped on of the vines and tugged on it.  It came off in his hands in little clumps.  Infuriated, he threw it to the ground.  Suddenly, his eyes brightened, and he looked up to the window again.  A smile crept on his lips, and he jumped to the ground.  

            He found some stones on the ground, small enough not to make a ruckus if they hit the window.  Jack hefted one, stepped back, took aim, and threw it at the window.  It hit dead center, and he heard a muffled little yelp from inside.  There was some scrambling and shoving.  The window opened, and a familiar face stuck its head outside.  Jack waved and called quietly.  

            "Elizabeth, down here, luv," he used that term to get her attention.  Elizabeth looked down, saw Jack, and almost shrieked again.  She put her hand over her mouth and rushed from the window, leaving a bemused Jack to wait for her return.  

            She did return, with some tied up sheets.  She cast the makeshift rope down, accidentally hitting Jack in the head.  He swiped it away and skillfully scaled its length.  Elizabeth helped him over the windowsill, all the while whispering questions to him.  

            "What happened?  Why are you here?  You could be hanged for returning!  It isn't safe for you here, Jack.  What would bring you back so late?  I didn't think you'd want to stay here."  Jack shushed her and glanced around the room.  He then shot her a suspicious look.  

            "First, I have only one question for you, dearie," she glared at that term, "why are you up so late?"  She sat down on her bed and sighed.  

            "I was just admiring the water," she whispered.  "You know, Will."  Jack gulped and steeled himself at the onslaught of paralyzing emotions.  "Speaking of Will, where is he?  I bet he would have liked to see Port Royal again if you returned."  Jack sat down beside Elizabeth, as much to steady himself as to make a point he was not going to be light about anything.  

            "Will would have like it," he began, "if he was here."  It took a moment for that to sink in.  Elizabeth gasped and took Jack's hands.  

            "What happened to him?  What happened to Will?" she almost shrieked.  Jack took a deep breath and turned away when he felt the unfamiliar sting of tears.  

            "There was a storm," he muttered, "I barely could keep the Pearl afloat, much less look after Will.  I thought he could have stood up himself, but only when I had the Pearl righted again did I hear his screams.  I looked over and saw his hand disappear into the waves."  He choked on a sob.  Elizabeth dropped his hands, letting the crying shake her entire form.  She put her head in her hand and rocked back and forth.

            "Jack, you lie, don't you?" she mumbled, seizing the hem of his jacket like a lunatic.  She stared up at him through her puffy eyes.  "You have to jest, Jack.  Will wouldn't be gone like that.  Will is strong."  She let out a hiccup/laugh.  "Come on, Jack, tell me the truth about Will. 

            All Jack could squeak out is, "I did."  Elizabeth sniffed, suddenly falling on Jack grasping his coat tightly, burying her head in his shirt.  

            "No, it's all wrong," she sobbed.  Jack, after a little uncertainty, held her head for comfort.  "Will is not dead."  She put her arms around Jack like a little girl and cried her eyes dry.  Jack rocked her back and forth, guessing this was right, and stroked her golden hair.  She ranted some more about Will being alive, somehow washed onto an island, still in the waves somewhere, but all these possibilities Jack already mulled over long ago.  He knew most to be false.  

            "Jack, maybe someone," she started, but the breath left her at the sight of Jack when she looked up.  There was water on his cheek, too.  

***

            Elizabeth sniffed and wiped her eyes, standing shakily.  Jack assisted her in righting herself, and she leaned on him the entire way back to the window.  The sky lightened, and Jack feared that his boat had not gone unnoticed.  He turned around to Elizabeth, giving her a brief hug.  

            "Please, Jack," she pleaded, "Don't give up looking for him.  Go on being a pirate, that's all right, but never give up looking for Will.  Maybe someone found him, and he is on another boat.  There is always a chance of that, Jack.  There is always a chance."  She sounded like she tried now to convince herself of this.  Jack squeezed her hand.  

            "Lass, don't think I'd ever give up looking for the whelp," he assured her.  "Every town I find I'll ask about him.  I'll find him someday."  

            "Promise me then you'll bring him back.  I want to see Will again if he lives."  

            "I promise that if Will has no objections."  He gave Elizabeth another embrace and slipped out the window into the fading cover of night.  Elizabeth turned seaward, her heart breaking as she too saw Will's body crashing upon the waves that fateful night.  

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            Please review this story!  *grins evilly* I do sad endings very well, you see, and I also do happy middles very well, you see, and if you are thinking, I believe that you DO see.  Who knows, Will's future (or Jack's for that matter) is currently in the air.

 Jack's future: No, I'm not.  

Me: You know what I mean.  

            So review!       


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

            Days passed, blending into a never-ending cycle of life.  Every hour was drawing a little closer to the end, a monotonous part of the great whole.  There was no sign of Will.  Jack never returned to Port Royal to update Elizabeth, who waited just as anxiously as if Will was her own husband, gone on a great voyage across the sea.  Still, the years passed, and she found her mourning mixed with reality.  She consented, a year after Jack's arrival, to wed Norrington, for even though she accepted long before, she never had the heart to go through with it.  It was, to her, the final severing from all ties of her former life.  They had a child, a little girl, and slowly, the long hours spent at the docks awaiting any sign of Jack Sparrow faded.  The girl consumed her life, and for once, there was a semblance of a smile on her face.  

            The child, now four, named Anne, brought joy back into Elizabeth's life.  She took it out with her sometimes to admire the cerulean waters beyond or wait for her husband's return.  It was a good life for her, and she had finally let go of Will and hopes of his return.  

            "Momma," Anne cried as she darted out of Elizabeth's grasp and ran down the dock.  Elizabeth picked up her skirt and followed slowly behind her.  

            "Don't get too close to the water," she called out.  Anne put her hands on her hips, even at four taking perfectly after her mother.  

            "Momma, look," she said, pointing with her small hand to the water.  Elizabeth took the other hand to keep her from falling in and peered into the clear depths.  Her daughter tugged on the hem of her dress.  "A scarf," she stated in her little voice, "I want it!"  Elizabeth tucked some of her hair behind her eyes, disbelief spreading through her.  She looked around before crouching down.  

            "You should stay away from the water just a little."  Anne pouted but obediently stepped away as Elizabeth reached down for the scarf.  Her fingers brushed the material, sending shivers of memory up her arm.  She picked up the wet piece of cloth and stood.  It dripped water everywhere, but she could not relinquish her grip on it.  Anne tugged at her dress again.  

            "Let me see it," she commanded.  Elizabeth shakily put a hand on her daughter's shoulder and gave her a little shove.  The textured material felt cold in her hands, even with the warmth in the water.  She shivered.  

            It was in too good of shape.  It was all coincidence that it looked just like the cloth he wore.  Elizabeth rolled the peach colored cloth over in her hands.  Tears sprung to her eyes as she held it to her face.  

            Still, there was no wear on it, as if it was fresh and new still, not corroded by the salt water as it should be after floating for four years.  

            Will's scarf should not be floating errantly in the waters as it was.

***

            Jack swayed along the road to the Black Pearl, a bottle of rum in one hand, a whore in the other.  Actually, it was not his choice the whore followed him here.  

            "Ye haven't paid me!" she shrieked, pulling on his arm.  Jack moaned and flicked her off.  She let out another shriek and grabbed at him again.  "Get 'ack here!"  Jack whirled on her as best he could, overreacting and moving a little to fast.  

            "List'n lass," he slurred, "ye wern't yer fees."  She stood, agape, and slapped him suddenly.  He rubbed his burning cheek as she glared up at him.  

            "Ye'll pay me i' ye lik' i' or not," she threatened.  "Now."  Jack turned away from her, starting down the street at a run that appeared very sober.  Even in his state, he knew what he was doing was going to put his life in danger.  The whores of Tortuga never forgot debts, and if not paid in a timely manner, the cost grew great.

            "Come back..."

            "Alri'," he shouted back at her, reaching into his pocket and finding some gold.  He threw it at her, and she frantically scrambled to collect it off the ground.  "You hav' yer pay."  He turned from her then and swaggered away, taking another sip of the rum as he made his way to the Pearl.  

            Of course, just a few feet from the ship, the world spun around Jack, and he fell to the ground, unconscious from the alcohol.  His crew stumbled upon him on their own return, and they hauled the captain up onto the ship and into his room to sleep out the night.  

***

            Anamaria huffed around in quite a bad room.  The sun was rising above the clouds, but the captain hadn't woken yet!  Even after his night she guessed he had, he was usually awake by sunrise.  She grumbled and trudged onto deck, quite restless herself.  

            She guessed it was from her own night last night, spent in the crew's favorite tavern.

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            Anamaria took a swig of her drink, laughing at some soon forgotten tale spun by Gibbs.  She leaned back and looked around, quite content where she sat in this stuffy tavern.  Men called out to each other, some jeering and fighting, others were calling to each other.  A small number of whores (as in most taverns in Tortuga) wandered around, their high-pitched squeals evident over the base rumble of the men's voices, but they were scant in this tavern.

            "Why'd we always come 'ere," grumbled a crewmember under his breath, glancing hopefully at one of the whores.  The table went silent, and he looked up to see all eyes on him, one pair of dark brown eyes glaring quite hard at him.  He smiled weakly and took a sip of his drink, resigning to the shame of silence.  Anamaria jutted out her jaw just a little before turning from him.  She did not like it when the crew got so rowdy around the whores.  It was the only time she ever felt out of place with the crew, and it made her remember all too clearly her feminine side.

            Suddenly, a hush fell over the room, the only sound that of the creaking of floorboards as someone (or a group of people) entered the tavern.  Anamaria looked over her shoulder to see who caused such a stir.  Entering the room were seven men, sailors by the look of them, all waving and laughing to the silent crowd.  

            "Don't worry," one said, chuckling.  Slowly, the noise level grew to what it was long ago.  

            "Who's that?" she wondered, inclining her head toward them.  She looked expectantly to Gibbs, who shrugged, staring intently at them.  

            Someone, though, passing by, heard Anamaria's question.  

            "Wonderin' who that is?" he asked, crouching down by the table.  Anamaria measured him with a sideways stare, but he held up his hands.  "Mean ye no harm.  Just heard an innocent question."  She let out a sigh and nodded.  

            "Aye."  The man looked around hesitantly before turning back to Anamaria.  His hands fell on the mug in her hands, still filled with whatever drink this happened to be, and he made a gesture towards it.  

           "It'll be a price," he said.  Anamaria glared at him over the rim and handed him drink.  He finished it in one gulp.  Obviously, this man had probably already spent his money for the night on his share of drink and company, but any drop was satisfying for him.  He wiped his dirty face on an equally dirty hand and began.  

            "Well, they're part of a ship, see, The Fleetin' Dream's 'er name.  They sail these wa'ers, without no destination or course.  No one knows where they'll pop up next."  He put his hands in the air.  "Really are a'fleetin' dream!"  He laughed.  "Big'r numbers every time they come back, really."  He looked over to the gleeful men, now settling down together to a drink.  One of them looked over at that table, but his attention was quickly turned back to his friends.  "Don' get associatin' with 'em.  Good men, but som'in's wrong with 'em."  He shivered and stood up, arching his back very old-like.  Anamaria nodded her head to him in thanks, and he waved it off, leaving them alone to muse over the story.  

            The talk ventured down that road a while, the crew discussing this tale and wondering what the ship could be like.  Anamaria looked back at the crew again and found herself wondering _why_ a group of men would just sail the seas with no apparent destination.  Really, she didn't think she could stand that for too long.  The sea was wonderful, but sometimes, it got to you.  

            _Well, maybe that's how it got to those men.  _

The talk slowly died down as many of the men found themselves too drunk to speak clearly.  Around them, the peak of nightlife began, but Anamaria felt she needed to leave.  She bid her intoxicated crewmates farewell, trying to get their attention while shouting at the top of her lungs.  They all noticed her then, but even that was somewhat dulled when usually Anamaria shouting was a formidable sight.  She strode out, needing the somewhat fresher air of the streets outside.  

            On the way to the door, Anamaria passed by the table with the Fleeting Dream's crew.  None of them looked up at her, except for one, sitting in the back.  He was a little slighter than the rest of the strong men, but he had the look of keeping his own if needed.  His swished a strand of brown hair from his eyes, staring intently at Anamaria.  His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.  Anamaria paused for just the fraction of a second, a little warning flickering in her mind, but she let him go, closing the door with a bang.  

            Once in the street, she had a new plan in mind.  She needed news on that ship, the Fleeting Dream, and she needed it now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Anamaria listened to the increased movement below deck and sighed again, scuffing her boot on the timbers.  No one had any real information about that ship other than the stories of its strange behaviors.  No one knew where it went.  Most people said it didn't make berth anywhere in particular, being that the sailors rarely ever stayed in a town more than a night.  They didn't even know who the captain was!

            Still, Anamaria was certain of one fact for sure.  They took men from each town they went to and often collected stranded sailors.  They, if a little odd, were respected quietly for this.  That flicker burned in Anamaria's mind, and she saw that man's face once more.

            There was a creaking behind her, and Anamaria looked up to see the captain, sauntering out from his cabin.  He grinned at her, giving a lopsided wave, but that proved not good on his part.  His head spun again and he shook it frantically.  

            "Didn't even have that much," he grumbled.  

            "Cap'n," she acknowledged him, her stomach churning a little as she prepared to break the news to him of her discoveries.  She had to, here, now, just in case Jack wanted to investigate.  He might get a little emotional away from the city.  She cleared her throat as he made to turn, and he looked back over his shoulder.  

            "E'er heard much of the Fleeting Dream?" she asked him tentatively.  Jack gave her a sideways looks, sensing her nervousness.  He knew this all too well; Anamaria was only like this when on one topic.  His heart skipped a beat, and he took a quick step forward.  

            "Oh, a few stories here and there," he said offhandedly.  "Why'd you ask?"  She paused, looking behind her at the brighter city of Tortuga.  

            "Saw the crew last night."  Jack sensed where this would go, and he nearly pounced on her as he jumped.  

            "What did you see?" he asked frantically, grabbing her collar.  She shook free, putting up her hands to calm Jack, but her eyes were quite frightened.  "What does this have to do with Will?"  

            "That's what I'm figurin' out!" she wailed.  "Cap'n, 'e's there."  Jack stopped his arms in mid-air, frozen in anguish.  Anamaria steeled herself in hopes to keep calm now.  One of the few things that made her jumpy was the captain behaving like this.  

            "Will is where?" he gasped.  His face paled.  "Tell me where you saw him!"  He sunk to the ground, his legs not able to support his shaking frame.  Anamaria stepped pointed towards Tortuga.  

            "In the tavern, 'e looked at me th' same way he did."  Jack turned his wide eyes towards the city, and before Anamaria could stop him, he bolted away from the ship towards the now resting city.  

***

            Despair gripped at Jack hard as he walked from the tavern.  The barkeep said that the Fleeting Dream's crew never stays more than a night in any port and they already left most likely.  He looked up to the sky, the harsh sun beating down on him.  Now, that sun felt like a punishment, not a blessing.  He had been away from his Will for five years, and even though Will faded from most every memory, he never fully gave up his search to look for him.  Most of the crew felt this, and sometimes, they even assisted him in his inquiries.  They had diminished in numbers greatly since that first year, but he couldn't let Will go, not just yet.  The lad had to be alive.  

            Jack kicked at the nearest barrel, sending it flying to the ground with a thud and a flurry of feathers as it stirred up some loose chickens.  He couldn't believe that Will might have been here, right under his very nose.  Anamaria said the man looked different, but there was something familiar about him.  Jack took this as enough of a lead after five years of nothing.  

            He made his way through the streets and back to the Black Pearl dragging his feet slowly.  The crew was mulling about, waiting for his return.  

            "Cap'n?" Gibbs inquired as Jack reached the deck.  Jack turned a frighteningly blank face on him.  

            "We will follow the Fleeting Dream, wherever it goes.  I think we might have our lad."  Gibbs gulped.  

            "Cap'n, we can't chase Will 'round everywhere.  I know, but there be little chance 'e's still alive."  Jack whirled on Gibbs, his nostrils flaring.  

            "Who's the captain here?" he roared.  "I will make decisions on whether or not I want to find the whelp!  He means more to me than..."  Jack stopped very anti-climatically, realizing that Will did mean more to him then piracy, then freedom, then the Black Pearl even.  Will was his final treasure, the one treasure he would risk everything for just to see that perfect face one last time.  

            Still, as he turned to the crew, he also noted their hard faces, what they did in their life.  He doubted they would endure this chase if they had to suffer through their lives without any compensation for the lost time.  They did not live through all the disease, battles, and disgust of a ship just to look for a lost crewmember.  

            "Listen," Jack said reluctantly, "I understand."  There was a little lessening of tension.  "But remember, the Fleeting Dream's our ultimate goal now.  Do everything you can to find its whereabouts.  I don't want him to slip away from me forever."   

***

            _Fog swirled everywhere, masking any objects around a person if they were not only a few feet away.  The water did not move but was like glass, smooth, hard, and clear.  This is what Jack found himself standing on, circling around in hopes to discern some object in the fog.  There was nothing, not even a faint stir of the wind.  Everything was perfectly still._

_            Taking this opportunity, Jack began to walk.  He was not sure to what he walked, if anything, but it was better than staying in one place.  Usually, something happened when you walked.  _

_            It did not.  The fog and ocean stretched on interminably.  All the movement was Jack swaggering walk as he cut through the fog.  _

_            Well, he thought to himself, if nothing were going to move, I would have to make it move.  _

_            "Hello?" he called.  His voice echoed around quite loud, though he did not shout out.  A ring filled his ears and escalated to such an unbearable pitch that he clapped his hands over them to stop it.  The noise died down, and he made a note to himself never to call out again._

_            Still, maybe his noise had brought around other, more positive effects, for underneath him, he thought he felt the water ripple as if a ship passed by.  He stood his ground, hoping that he would in fact see a ship.  He did not have to wait long, for around him, the fog cleared to reveal a mighty ship.  The ship was so beautiful and immaculately clean, he noted.  It even had a sense of shining with some ethereal light to separate it from this world._

_            There was one lone figure upon the ship: a woman, dressed all in white.  Her hands were clasped in front of her, and her head was bowed.  Golden hair hid her face from view as it cascaded down her white dress.  He waved his arms now, still frightful to bring that ring upon him again, but she did not turn.  She kept her head bowed, even as the ship passed him by until it began to disappear into the darkness.  He waved his hands  more, but it didn't stop and wait for him.  _

_            Suddenly, another figure appeared, looking over the side of the ship.  He peered into the fog as if he could somehow find a way through it, as if he wanted to find a way through, needed to find a way through.  Jack waved to him and he looked down at Jack.  Their eyes met, and his face suddenly became frantic as he tried to climb over the side.  Jack was powerless though as he scrambled over the side.  None of his limbs would respond to his commands.  _

_            Suddenly, the figure lost his footing on the side.  His arms flailed as he fell, and when he hit the water, he parted for him.  He screamed again, and Jack saw his face.  _

***

            Jack woke with a start, panting from this dream.  This one was quite different then many he had.  Still, the message was the same.  

            They were running out of time.  

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            *cheers* People actually read this story!  I was worried they wouldn't.  YAY!  

            Please review, for when I am happy, my stories are happy.

Jack: I'm not happy.  

Me: Stories, not characters, and plus, I can't write a totally happy story.  It is impossible.  But _maybe I might be able to pull off a happy ending.  ^_^  Maybe..._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

            Yay!  People are reading and reviewing!  *jumps up and down*  

            Well...can't think of anything to say.  Anyway...

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            Somewhere, far out in the Atlantic, there sat an island: small, uninhabitable, just an errant floating rock.  There was nothing around it at all; giving rise to the belief that nothing lived on it.  In addition, who would live in the middle of the Atlantic on some pathetic island when the enchanting Caribbean was not far off?  Therefore, all intelligent sailors passed it by.  There was nothing profitable here, especially if it meant getting through the fog around it.  For around the island was a perpetual fog, a deterrent for even the most foolhardy of seamen.  No one ever saw that fog lift or the waters below it.  Some people even believed the island to be inhabited by devils.  

            However, to one ship, these tales were naught but words.  It seemed to sail directly for the fog with perfect confidence, the sailors on deck actually in a jovial mood, singing some songs as they came to it.  They passed into the fog, and it closed in about them, leaving no trace the ship had come at all.  Certain death awaited this poor ship though, for the fog was thick and one could not even see their hand in front of their face.  

            Still, it sailed on, and as it did, even more people emerged onto deck, calling to each other in the thick air.  Some children emerged, running about and calling and pointing over the rail.  Men peered out in silence, making comments to each other, while their wives whispered in little groups, glancing nervously around in the dense clouds.  The sailors tried to work around them, but it proved too daunting of a task, and they finally pushed them down below deck again despite their protests.  Now, the sailors could work without hindrance, and work they did.  

            Suddenly, there was some shouting, and the ship hit something that felt like a dock, a dock to a port.  Yes, it was a port, a city hidden beneath the fog, a mystery to all other wary travelers but this one.  At the jolt, some of the passengers came on deck, and as the fog cleared before their eyes, they saw a spectacular sight.  

            In front of them was a city, magnificent to behold.  Many docks lined the waterfront, some holding ships but most empty.  People mulled about, shouting, calling, and motioning towards the great ship just to come into harbor.  Behind that though was the true spectacle.  The city itself was built between two hills.  Many of the buildings sat upon the hillsides, but the bulk of the houses stretched between the gap.  The streets were of dark cobblestones, horses tethered here and there on the side, some plants peeking through the little spaces between the houses and the road.  The buildings themselves were made of dark woods or sturdy stone, most beautiful structures with a combination of the two: some fancy woodwork done over the stone.  Occasionally a large building would show through, mixed in just as normally with the smaller ones, though the larger usually rested upon the hillsides.  These were mansions of the highest kind, the graceful architecture something one would not expect to see on any island nation.  These had large lawns with grasses and trees and vines snaking up the sides of the house, flowers in bloom on hedges, the trees swaying in the gentle sea breeze.  The cloud cover kept the city in semi-darkness, but because of this, it held a dark, alluring quality.  

            The passengers took their first steps off the ship into the town, bubbling with excitement after their long journey.  The sailors followed a little while after, laughing and joking with each other as they made a beeline for the nearest tavern.  Now off that ship for a little while, they would have some time to relax.  

            "How long will we remain?" one of them asked to another.  The latter shrugged.  

            "We usually stay about a week or so," he replied.  "Depends on how the captain's doing and what...everyone wants."  Suddenly, he looked at the first strangely.  "Of course, I don't know about you.  You just got lucky, having skills that were useful to us, that's all.  Really just another passenger..."  A hush fell over the group, and the stopped, all surrounding the first man.  He looked around to them.  

            "You mean to make me stay here then?" he whispered coldly.  "You mean for me to stay in this town for the rest of my life."  Silence met him, only fueling his anger.  "You don't understand!  I can't do that, not now!"

            "Listen, lad," another man said, putting a strong arm around his shoulder.  "It'll all work out in the end.  Maybe you can come along some other time with us.  It's not as if we haven't had any time together.  We've been on that ship for five years..."

            "That's the point!" he shouted.  "I've been on there for five years.  The sea is my home, don't you see.  I have to sail with you.  If I don't..."  His voice caught in his throat, for it seemed to him then that he had to stay sailing for another reason, but it was distant, faint, faded from his memory.  

            "We're sorry we have to do this, but it's a good town.  You should enjoy it all the same.  Come on, let's have a drink now and forget about all of this.  Some nice company to keep you warm for the night here, some drinks to clear you mind, and it should all be fine."  They started moving again.  

            "But what about after that?  You will sneak out on me tonight, will you not?  You would leave me here!  You don't understand!  I can't be away from the Caribbean!  I can't be away from..."

            "Listen, I told you we should drop this for now and continue this argument later," he hastily interrupted.  "We'll be here for a while, so don't bother yourself with it!"  The sailors pushed ahead, but the man remained where he was.  He could not so easily just forgive and forget.  That little nagging voice in his head still rang clear, and if he remained, there would be no chance of it ever leaving him.  

            He looked back to the ocean once more before trudging ahead to join back with his companions.  

***

            "Surrender and you will go away unharmed," Jack announced to the captain of the merchant vessel as he held his sword to the captain's neck.  The man trembled.  

            "I surrender," he stammered out, his face paling.  Jack glared at him for one unnerving moment before grinning and sheathing his sword.  

            "Good then," he announced.  "All right, men, get all the prizes off of here.  Oh, and to you, mate, I would make sure you say a little word to your crew warning against going against us.  Let's just say we have a 'punish the masses for one's mistake policy.'"  He clapped the captain on the shoulder and sauntered off, leaving the man stunned.  

            "Please, sir, pirate you might be, could I ask just a little favor of you?" the captain called after Jack, who spun around on one foot slowly.  "Leave us enough provisions to get to the closest inhabited island."  Jack thought for a moment, his chin on his hand.  

            "Well, your ships a small one, for a merchant vessel, and right now I'm not hurtin' for another, so I might consider it," he bargained, "if you give me all the information you have about the Fleeting Dream."  Silence fell over the crew, who had been shuffling about noisily, and the only sound was that of Jack's pirates looting the ship.  The captain cleared his throat at Jack's expectant expression.  

            "We saw them, from our crossing 'bout a week ago, in fact, heading straight towards a large belt of fog.  Said to lead to an island, but every sailor whose dared enter there's died.  I'spose they'll be turning off sometime from their course, but we haven't seen 'em since."  Jack now fell silent, his mind working frantically as he ran this information through again.  So, the ship was in the Atlantic somewhere.  

            "What do you know about the crew of the ship?"  The captain shrugged.  

            "Naught but the fact that always the numbers on that ship change.  Some say it's every five years that the ship's numbers go back to just a few before they start to grow again.  What they're up to no one knows.  I suspect they are delivering the people somewhere really," he whispered.

            "A human cargo?"  Jack wondered skeptically.  The captain shrugged.  

           "Heard that story sometimes.  I suspect they take those poor people off to be part of some ritual or something.  Probably all of them die."  Jack leaned against the railing now to feign calm.  

            "What of the sailors?  Are they ever...dropped off?"  

            "Rarely.  Most of the times I see the crew in taverns they have the same numbers.  Still, I've counted, and there's one more in the crew than usual.  Who knows?  They might drop 'em off if they need to."  Jack held back the urge to wince.  Instead, he turned away from the captain to watch his crew make quick work of the loot.  They were almost done now, and Jack turned his head back around, tilting his hat to the men.  

            "Greatly appreciated the news and your supplies, mate.  Good sailing for you!"  With that, he swaggered across the plank now connecting both ships, not looking back while his mind ran over the information.  

            "So, what'd he say?" Anamaria inquired.  Jack looked down at her, his face, for once, grim.  

            "I know that Will might be there, but I'm not sure where there is."    

***

            "No, cap'n, no, that's not Will.  Jack, get off 'im.  Jack, that's no' a good idea.  Jack..."  Anamaria turned away with an exasperated sigh as Jack began to try to unbutton the unlucky crewmember's shirt, all the while saying something about how "ye 'r alwa's so hesitan', Will," though Anamaria was quite sure that was _not_ Will.  The wonders of a little rum never seemed to astound her.  Well, not technically just a little...

            "Cap'n," she began again, "least go back to yer cabin!"  Jack looked up at her, a little dazed, before a wolfish grin crossed his face.  He left the crewmember where he was, slightly confused himself and not truthfully sure what had just happened (so he returned to his rum), and stumbled to Anamaria.  

            "Hel'o," he slurred, wrapping a hand around her shoulder.  Anamaria gave him a warning glare, and even in his intoxicated state, he backed off just a little.  He took another swig of rum, and all of Anamaria's hopes dwindled away.  

            After the looting of the ship, they sailed a little ways off before beginning the traditional celebration, filled with the stolen rum from the other ship and whatever else that contained alcohol upon the ship.  The crew enjoyed themselves by getting thoroughly drunk.  Anamaria, as usual, kept herself almost sober.  She had been planning to join the crew in their drinking, but she had hopes to maybe, somehow, converse with Jack one last time about the search for Will.  

            Still, as usual, Jack was also the first to be stumbling around yelling half-intelligible phrases.  She should have guessed, really, that Jack would not be in any sober form tonight.  She sighed and leaned against the railing.  

            She was just a little unnerved now, after overhearing the conversation between Jack and the captain.  There were rumors of that island she had heard before; most she knew to be seamen's tales.  Still, some held some merit.  It was said that any ship that sailed into the fog would never return; dashed upon frequent and razor-sharp rocks that jutted up from the frothing waves.  And there was wreckage all about that area, remnants of the unfortunate ships' passages.  Still, word passed around that one ship would frequent that area, sail into the fog, and emerge from it unscathed.  So, as Anamaria saw it, the chances of Will having survived that passage were slim.  

            She had to tell Jack before he set the ship on an sternly course, out towards that island, his hopes rising, only to be crushed when he saw the remains of Will's ship, or broken to pieces while he himself fell into the dangerous waves, never to appear again.  Jack would not handle it if he sailed all that way to find that Will was gone forever from him.  

***

            Jack stared up at the ceiling of his cabin, brooding, as he usually did not do.  Of course, the circumstances were not what one would call normal for Jack either, and the manner of his mind was not traditional.  

            In fact, he was plain distressed.  

            The very thought of Will being dead, said out in front of him, heard through his own ears, sent him off into this dark phase.  Always he had known in the back of his mind there was little chance of finding Will.  As the years progressed, that voice took over, and he all but forgot about the lad.  Until Anamaria mentioned him in the tavern.  From then, he could not get his mind off Will.  When he closed his eyes, he saw his strong face, yet his gentle amber eyes, his beautiful hair, felt it tickling Jack's face as they rested side by side.  He saw the sun shining bright above, the clear waters around him, Will sometimes throwing him a smile from where he worked around the deck, Will when he laughed with the rest of the crew, dancing to the sound of a violin, playing a little tune he had made on a tin whistle.  Jack felt his own laughter at times like those, watching Will laugh and jest.

            All gone, crashed upon the rocks of some unknown island, not a week's sailing from where they were now.  All gone, all gone!  Anamaria's newest words brought no hope to Jack.  Will was lost; there was no way around that.  Will was gone from him now, gone forever.  

           One week ago, Jack rejoiced with his crew over a large plunder.  One week ago he no care or worry about Will.  

            Well, now there would be no worrying.  That was over.  All that was left was the gaping hole in Jack's heart, the empty space that would nevermore be filled.  Tears sprang to his eyes, but as he often did, he buried them.  Once he saw for his own eyes this island, once he knew for certain that Will was dead.  Then and only then would he mourn.  Even now, there _was_ the slightest little, tiny, miniscule chance that that one ship Will just happened to sail with.  

            Suddenly, a voice cut through Jack's thoughts.  

            "There's a ship!  Merchant vessel by the look o' her."  Jack turned his head slowly, inclining towards the noise.  Even those promised words did not rouse him from his despair.  Just another merchant ship, more trinkets to sell at a port, maybe, if they were lucky, a little gold to use without sale, but no Will.  Nothing of true value.  

            There was a pounding on his door when he did not respond as quickly as normal if that call went up.  He sat up and swung his legs off the bed.  

            "What's she like?" he called as he opened his door.  The crew turned to face him and nodded out towards the east.  It was quite a large ship, quite large indeed.  Jack set aside his grief for that moment and seized a spyglass from Gibbs's hands.  He peered through it.  

            "No colors," he said.  "Now that's odd.  Don't like the looks of it.  We'll trail it for a while and see if it's worth our time."  Still, he had a strange feeling about it, one he had never felt, and he was curious.  Jack knew they would take it, no matter what he said.

            But they trailed it, and Jack felt quite antsy all the time, unlike he usually was.  He wanted...needed to take that ship now.  Finally, he barked out the order, when they were close enough to it, to raise up their black flag and prepare to board.  The Black Pearl fired one warning shot as they came alongside the other ship.  Grapples secured them together, and Jack's crew boarded, Jack jumping across the distance with ease and swaggering up to one of the men, his grin on his face.  

            "Kindly surrender," he said.  This man turned to another, obviously the captain, and the captain dropped his weapon.  Jack nodded his thanks.  

            "Wonderfully appreciated, good lads," he said.  "Now, what loot might you have to catch a pirate's fancy?"  The captain came forward.  He was a tall man, well built and well tanned, with beady brown eyes.  He looked down at Jack, who casually cocked his head to one side.  

            "We have no goods here but our own supplies," he informed Jack.  "We are of no interest to you, not even merchants.  We never do harm to pirates and allow them to continue their practices, so please, leave without doing any harm."  Jack opened his mouth in thought.  

            "No, actually, you are.  We were in need of some supplies.  Men, go get what we need!" he shouted to his crew.  They scurried off to the hold, and Jack ran his hands along the railing of this ship.  "What a beautiful ship.  Large, strong.  But whom she flies under?  I saw no colors on you."  The captain shook his head.  

            "We sail under no flag," he announced, but when Jack pressed for more information, he would give none.  

            "We merely sail," was his final answer.  Jack gave up, instead inspecting the rest of the ship.  It would be nice to have another one, and this one proved promising.  He ran his hands along the wheel, feeling much wear on the wood there.  

            "I do have another question for you," Jack said when the captain made to turn around from him.  "What do you know of a ship called the Fleeting Dream?"  The captain stopped, swiveled around on one foot, and smiled.  

            "Mate, this is the Fleeting Dream."  

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            Oh!  Cliffhanger of sorts that's not really a cliffhanger but kind of in a way is because it is kinda just hanging there in a way.  Now what?  Answers?  If I'm nice...maybe... *grins evilly*  Heheheheh.....  But are they _good answers?  _


	4. Chapter 4

            Hey, I'm sorry if this took a little while to post!  I had a lot going on, and I still do, but after this week, I should be posting more regularly.  Just been a bit swamped with school right now.  Oi!  

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            "They threw themselves overboard?  Well, at least you got a ship, right?" a whore by the name of Katrina purred with mock surprise as she hung onto Jack's arm.  He took another swig of his drink and sighed deeply.  She stroked back his hair and fiddled with one of his strands of beads.  Jack looked into her big, dark brown eyes and gave her a lopsided smile, but it faded fast.  

            "Jumped," he repeated.  "Aye, they di'.  Don' knows why."  She sat up, her mouth in a little oh.  

            "Well, that's strange," she responded.  She glanced around nervously suddenly and leaned it towards him.  "What's the name of the ship again?"  He reached over a put an arm around her, and she delicately purred in response.  

            "Fleetin'...Fleetin'...Dream, that's it," Jack slurred.  "Like Will."  His drunken expression faded to one that was almost sober.  Somewhere in the recesses of his intoxicated mind he thought of Will and found himself almost disgusted that he had this whore in his arms when it should be Will beside him, drinking, laughing, loving, not this mysterious woman named Katrina.  Still, Katrina was running her finger up and down his arm that made those thoughts leave him.  He finished off his pint of rum and slammed it down on the table.  He tipped to one side and rolled to the floor.  

            "Will?" she asked in a soft and enticing voice.  "He one of your crewmates, _captain?"  _Jack felt a twinge of offense at that remark.  A crewmate?  Oh, so much more, you twisted whore.  But she had her chin resting on her shoulder, looking straight into his eyes at batting her eyelashes.  

            "Love of mine," Jack replied slowly.  "Good lad, bit o' a stick, but goo' all the same.  Always caring, never really wanted to leave my side.  Shouldn't have, you know."  Katrina thought for a moment and contemplated calling for another drink for him.  He still had no intention of actually taking advantage of her services, instead claiming he needed a few drinks.  Obviously, it was still not enough; it was never a good sign when the clientele had their lover in mind.  It wasn't uncommon, just never good for business.  

            "What happened to him?" Katrina asked, hoping it would get him off the subject, assuming that in fact Will was gone from him now, whoever Will was.  

            "'E..."  Jack stopped, "'e fell overboard.  Never could save him.  No' even th' crew of Fleetin' Dream could tell me anything!  Killed 'emselves first when I brought up the subject!"  Katrina felt a smirk crossing her face, but she subdued, instead reaching over Jack and grabbing a bottle of rum from the nearest passerby's hand.  He looked over to Katrina, grinned at her, and sauntered away, later falling to the floor in a dead faint.  Katrina handed the bottle to Jack, and he ran a hand along her cheek a little shakily.  

            "A'tually," Jack began again, "think e's still alive."  Katrina sighed and gently tilted the rum bottle towards his face.  He took a long swig of it.  "But I don' know.  Five years...long time...but they died when I brought him up...means...e's wherever they were, innit he?"  Katrina sighed and gently stroked back his hair, tucking some behind his ear.  

            "Don't bother with it.  There's other things to do now than contemplate your lover.  Come on."  She got up, holding out her little hand.  He looked at her as she stood there in all of her stunning beauty, or at least stunning to him at this point in time.  His sober mind would have said it was nothing truly.  She didn't have dark amber eyes and shoulder length brown hair, usually pulled back, though sometimes it was windblown and free, or a sharp mouth set to a frown, soft skin, tasteful lips, a strong muscled body.  She also wasn't a he.  

            Still, he grinned, and followed her out of the tavern to the nearest room, wherever that might be for this night.  

***

           Katrina stared at the unconscious form beside her.  He had made it to the bed before collapsing in a faint.  Pity.  She smirked to herself and quickly raided the man's pockets of any money he might have, or anything that would be worth selling.  It wasn't much, being he had already spent most of what he had carried in with him.  She winked at him and blew him a kiss, sneaking out the room and down to the streets of Tortuga.  

            Outside, the crowds were dispersing, for the first hints of sunlight peeked out from the clouds.  Of course, now it was not that people did not stroll through the streets but instead leaned on buildings in sleep or drunken stupor.  Katrina stepped delicately over a body sprawled in front of the doorway and ran across the muddy street towards a shack of a place.  She glanced around outside of it before knocking three times on the door.  She heard hasty movement and throwing on of clothing while a male voice called out.  

            "Be there...momentarily!"  Katrina crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot.  Around her, dawn was approaching fast, and did not feel inclined to stay out the day here once more.  

            Finally, a man poked his head out of the door.  Upon seeing her, he smiled a warm smile and threw open the rotting door.  It creaked dangerously on its hinges and threatened to snap, but he stopped it with his foot and gently whispered a few words.  

            "Katrina!" he welcomed her warmly.  "So good to see you.  I did think you had left by now for Miana.  I know you don't take kindly to this city..." Katrina strode inside and cut him short.  She looked around the small room and settled on sitting on one of the less molded couches.  The cushion sagged beneath her, and she settled on the edge of it as best she could.  The man sat down next to him.  

            "Why, you are in a sour mood, aren't you?  What does bring you here at this hour?  Well, would you like something to drink?  Fine rum, if you desire it, or maybe something better..."  He clapped his hands, and two women poked their heads into the room hesitantly.  When he beckoned them in, they entered, bearing a tray with two glasses on it.  One was empty.  The man took the full one and sipped it.  He smiled and motioned for the two women to sit beside him.  They did, and he wrapped an arm around both.  

            "Tell me James, how many were there earlier?" Katrina asked in disgust as she studied the women's upturned faces.  They looked a little pale.  James rose and crossed to her, sitting on the cushion beside her and extending a hand towards her.  A glare from her though stopped the hand in mid-air, and it fell to the cushion, sending up a cloud of dust.  He glanced at the two women, who bowed to him and left the room.  

            "Five," he said.  "But none are as fair as you, my—"

            "No kind words you can speak will ever change me, James," she warned him, "and I would not advise sweet talking to me."  James shut his mouth, and Katrina leaned back in the chair, now more comfortable since the whores were gone.  She put her hands behind her head.  

            "That is not very becoming," James scolded.  Katrina glowered at him and let out an exasperated sigh.  

            "Oh, let's get to it.  I don't have much time, you see.  The Fleeting Dream's gone."  This startled James.  He looked at her and almost rose to his feet, but Katrina held out her pale hand to stop him.  "Yes, James, gone.  A man informed me of this, oh, I think is name was...Jack...something...Sparrow, yes, that's it, a pirate, you know.  He attacked the ship."  

            "But how'd he get it?  You know just as well as I that the..."

            "He asked."  James stopped and nodded very slowly.  Katrina raised her eyebrows in agreement, and in one fluid movement moved to the grungy window.  She rubbed a bit of the dirt off and peeked outside at the city.  Around it, twilight faded slowly, and she felt the coming of the sun like a tingling beneath her skin.  She shivered and rubbed her arms.  

            "The sun's coming," she said.  "I need to deliver a message, preferably before sunrise.  It must get to Miana.  I don't care how it gets there!" Katrina shouted.  James looked away from her glowing eyes and coughed nervously.  

            "You know just as well as I that they will kill me if I set..."

            "Then give them word that I have granted you messenger status and allowed you passage into the city!" she whispered harshly.  "I don't care even if you don't get it there!  Just get the message to Miana.  Tell the nearest elder you find that "_swifter than the sparrow flies the day is quickly approaching.  Rumor grows, sunlight flows, and night pushes itself away.  Flow through the rivers and down to the seas to keep the mist abroad."  _James cocked his head and made his way over to Katrina.  

            "I shall deliver your message, my sweet, even if I myself do not understand it," he said, leaning down and kissing her cheek.  She growled a low growl and he took a step back, hands raised.  

            "You should not comprehend it," she said shortly.  "Now, be off.  I don't want to see any more of you until your task is done."  She crossed her arms and glared at him, but he did not move, a sneer on his face.  

            "And if I do happen to return..."  Katrina gave him a warning stare.  

            "I only play the part of a whore."  

            "Of course, which is why you should find no offense in my one request."  But, when she uncrossed her arms and casually leaned on the wall, James felt a strong urge to drop the subject.  Instead, he crossed to the door.  He looked back once, smiled at her, and left, running through the streets of Tortuga.  Katrina watched him go before closing her eyes wearily and disappearing into the night.  

***

            Jack lounged in the chair and put his feet up on the desk.  The young man on the other side wrinkled his nose, but to him, Jack appeared a rich man, and he loved rich men.  Even with his ragged appearance, he had the look in his eyes that promised he had pockets full of gold.  He lifted up a hand and examined his nails briefly before folding his legs back up and leaning forward.  

            "You willing to do a good favor for me?" Jack asked.  The man looked at him skeptically, and gave a short cough at the onslaught of breath heavily tinted with rum and other undistinguished substances.  He pulled out some papers.  

            "What favor would this be, sir?" he responded politely.  Jack studied him.  He was young, clean-shaven, a wonderful gentleman in the making.  He sat in a quaint study.  Books lined the walls, and the man had a sturdy and beautiful desk.  Every surface was clean and dusted.  

            "You are young, owning a large enterprise like you have.  Lots of ships, I suppose," Jack hinted.  He grinned and glanced at the room.  "Good seamen, your crews?"  The man's brow furrowed, a soft brow, smooth, no doubt.  He almost reminded Jack of Will, other than the fact that the face was rounded, his cheeks larger, and his blue eyes dark and senseless.  

            "Yes, I do in fact," he said.  "They are all merchant vessels though.  This is just a sugar plantation, you understand..."

            "Yes, yes, of course," Jack cut in.  "But I'm not interested in your produce.  Listen, I need a ship."  The man tried to keep a straight face, but it twitched at the side, and he gave a short little nervous laugh.  

            "Sir, did I hear you right?" he questioned.  Jack's smile faded, and he reached down to a pouch at his side.  It was located quite near to where his pistol was, and the laugh left the man as Jack's hand neared the inlayed handle.  But, instead, with a smirk, he pulled out the pouch.  It jingled as he raised it up and set it down on the desk.  The man's hand twitched.  

            "Let's say there's more where that came from," Jack whispered, leaning in close to the man.  "Lad, you're no fool.  You know promise when you see it."  Jack picked up the pouch as the man reached for it.  "If you give me one of your ships and their crew..."

            "Now, wait," he said.  "I won't sell over my crew to you, not one of ships either.  What would they do?  Would they consent?"

            "Do your slaves consent?"  The man opened his mouth once, giving out a little sound, before shutting it.  Jack nodded and smiled approvingly.  "Now, where were we?  No, you don't see.  I would merely...lease out the ship, per say.  They would have all their crew, their captain, everything, but you see, I am short a ship.  There's an island, also.  I need a ship and a crew, the best you can give, to sail to the island.  As an exploration mission."  The man thought, but Jack leaned even closer.  The young man blushed and tried to look the other way.  Jack gave a little nod with his head.  _Like that, are you?  _He was inches away, standing now to get across the space of the desk.  

            "Why wouldn't you sail into the island yourself...?"  Jack put on his best face, the face he used whenever he needed something from Will, but added a stinger on it, something sharper in his eyes that told the man if he refused, there would be dire consequences.  

            "Son, I only need your ship for this.  I have a small ship myself, not much at all, if you must know.  I've tried sailing there, but I can't maneuver it."  The man's eyes met Jack's, and he softened his gaze.  He burned and twisted inside and this betrayal, but he shoved those emotions down.  Not now, no, he had to.  Bile filled his mouth, but he gulped that down.  The man blushed even more as Jack gave one of his persuasive smiles, showing his teeth.  

            "I can think about it..."  Jack stood up now, sending his chair flying back.  The man started and leaned back.  

            "That won't do," Jack said quietly and slowly.  "This request has two answers.  Not a maybe.  Not a let's think about this.  A yes or a no, it isn't that hard.  Savvy?"  The man's heart skipped a beat as Jack reached for the pistol.  

            "Please, sir, who are you?  Why can't you get someone else to do this for you?"  Jack put on a hurt expression and fakly tried to smother it.  He leaned close and took both of the man's hands.  He gulped nervously and turned his head, but something about Jack's face made him turn around again.  Jack looked almost hurt, and the man wished he would just stop that.  Having a pistol at his head would be easier than this.  His stomach lurched and spun around as he stared at the dark eyes.  

            "All I need is a ship," he almost begged.  "What ships do you have here for me to have now?"  

            "There...there are three ships in the port," the man responded.  Jack smiled and released his hands.  There was a sagging in the man's shoulders.  Jack stretched out his body and grinned.  

            "Good to hear.  Tell me, what's your name?  I don't think I ever caught it?"  

            "Thomas...Thomas Jones," he responded.  Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully.  

            "Well, Thomas, then let me restate our agreement.  I need one ship.  It shall go an exploration to an island.  After that is done, I shall give you the ship back.  Do we have an accord?"  Thomas glanced at the hand, then down at his paper.  

            "Should we not make a formal agreement to this?" he asked.  Jack sighed and rolled his eyes, emphatically waving his hand.  

            "Just agree with me.  I am a man of my word!  Come on.  I will give you the ship back."  Thomas looked at Jack who smiled hopefully, then to the pouch of money at his belt, then to the pistol, then to the hand.  Thoughts rolled through his head, but his arm was already moving.  Their hands met, and Jack shook his vigorously.

            "You're a good man," he said happily.  Thomas walked with him to the door of the study as Jack sauntered away.  "I do hope we can talk again; spend some more time together, maybe, not just talking about these business affairs."  Jack's mind screamed at him as he spoke the words.  Thomas smiled though, and Jack's head groaned at that smile, forcing images of Will to the front of the pirate's eyes.  He banished them.  

            "Yes, we should talk, when you return the ship," he said.  "I can have it to you by the morning, once I talk to the crew.  They should be more than happy to sail other routes, not the normal trade patters they sail."  

            "I understand that," Jack said.  Thomas nodded.  

            "Oh, a seaman yourself?"  He opened the door to the study and led Jack out to the hall.  They walked down a flight of stairs while talking.  

            "Yes, in fact I am.  A captain, you know," he added with pride.  Thomas opened his mouth in understanding.  Of course, it dawned on him where this conversation could go.  He quickened his pace as they made their way down the splendid entrance hall to the mansion.  

            "What do you do?" the man asked.  Jack shrugged his shoulders.  

           "Oh, quite a lot...here and there, you know," he responded.  As the man opened his mouth, Jack raised a hand.  "Well, I wish we could talk, but I really must be going now."  He glanced outside at the setting sun.  "You're a good man, Thomas," he said.  He made a half-bow, half salute with his hand, giving a little flourish at the end, and making his way to the door in the straightest line he could muster.  He paused in the doorway and grinned back.  "I shall have my ship by morning."  With that, he disappeared outside into the fading light, leaving a bewildered and confused Thomas Jones behind.  

            Jack wasn't confused. No, Jack was quite clear on what he thought, and at the present moment, he was kicking himself for all of his tricks he used on the lad.  He did those to Will, not to this other man.  Oh, what had he done?  Having a night with a whore was one thing.  They were...well...different.  He had treated Thomas like there was actual interest in him.  What a fool he was for doing that!

            Not that he would likely see Thomas again.  Not only did Jack not know the name of the port where he docked to find this plantation, but also he had a strange feeling that there would not be much of a ship to return.  He would get more crew out of it, if the men could survive long enough to get back to the Pearl.  

            It was a simple plan.  He would take this ship to the island and get them to sail through the fog, for all accounts of said island mentioned the fog surrounding it.  It would sail in, and try to find a way through.  If it did, it would show Jack.  If it did not, well, he could only hope that the crew would make it back to the Pearl, right outside of the fog.  He would get the crew to tell him everything they could, then either a) take them to the nearest port or b) make them go on the account.  

            Jack stopped in front of "his" horse, tethered outside of the mansion.  The beast regarded him with fascination only akin to that of a sadist.  It tossed up its large head, and dirt freed itself from its mane.  It snorted at him and pawed the ground with its stubby legs.  Jack put out his hand nervously; he had never been one with animals.  

            "Easy now," he said, gently taking the reins and throwing them over the horse's head.  It regarded him with a look even more menacing than Anamaria's glare, and he gave a short laugh.  "Truce, alright?" he pleaded, grabbing hold of the saddle.  The horse lurched and threatened to take a step forward.  Jack started.  The horse turned back to him with a triumphant smirk on his face.  Jack tried his best to return the stare, but he felt awkward glaring at a horse, which was better at it than him.  

            Instead, he hoisted himself into the saddle.  The horse whinnied at the sudden weight and jumped away, Jack frantically grabbing of its mane to remain balanced.  The horse cantered off down the road, and Jack grabbed for the reins to steer it out of the way of any oncoming people or other obstacles.  He slipped steadily over to one side and let out a yelp as he righted himself.  The horse started then, veering sharply to the right.  Jack shouted and tried his best to pull it away.  There came a sudden shift beneath Jack, and he felt himself lose his grip as the horse bucked.  With a crash he landed in a bush.  

            There was a reason Jack never liked horses.  

***

            The port buzzed with morning activity.  Men bustled about, hauling crates to boats that would then lead them to the ships docked out from the harbor.  The sun shone down bright on the cerulean water and fell on the wooden planks of the docks.  In the bay were many ships; the port was a profitable one, quite large, on one of the richer islands.  Of course, those had no intention of leaving on this day.  There was one though that men hurried towards, loading up boats of supplies.  She was a beautiful ship call Fortune, sleek, a good vessel, a merchant ship of the highest quality.  On her deck, the men made ready to embark.  

            Beside her though was another ship that far dwarfed it for size.  Large, not as well groomed, but sturdy in her own right.  She was built for speed though, even with her large size.  Of course, upon her deck the men worked just as tirelessly, though they moved slightly slower and were not so coordinated.  But they could be excused.  It was not every nigh the crew of the Black Pearl was able to sample the finer sides of alcoholic beverages in such a nice town as the one they stopped in.  

            Jack, though, for once in his life, was quite sober and almost fretting as he paced in his cabin.  Energy threatened to explode inside him.  He had just completed a meeting with the captain of the merchant ship, a nice fellow by the name of Larun Hadderman.  _Strange name,_ Jack mused.  But what was he to say?  

            Still, he was that much closer, that much nearer to Will.  Only a week now until he could find out for sure if Will was alive or...well...somewhere else.  Dead wasn't a fitting word for Will.  Jack glanced out the small window of his cabin at the sea and sighed deeply.  

            "Luv, I'm coming here soon," he whispered.  

            "Cap'n?" a voice asked from outside the cabin.  Jack started and glanced up.  "The Fortune's ready."  He rummaged around the cluttered desk in front of him and found the small stone of Will's.  

            "Get me luck," he muttered, tucking it in his coat pocket before stepping out on the deck.  Around him, the crew waited for his command.  He grinned, barked a few orders, and made his way to the wheel.  It was time.  He had found the Fleeting Dream, lost the crew and any information.  So, if he could not force the knowledge, he would find it for himself, by whatever means necessary.  His crew had miraculously consented.  And, he promised them, if did not give any more leads, then they would leave Will behind.  

            His heart stung at the thought, but Jack shook his head to clear it.  There would be no hope if this was a dead end, that was for sure.  Once and for all, he would have the truth.  

            "Just wait for me Will.  I am on my way," Jack vowed.  

            And wait Will would.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*        

            Hope you liked that chapter!  Please review!  ^_^


	5. Chapter 5

I'm sorry if that took a while to post!  But I hope you'll still read this story.  Next chapter should come very soon.  It's finally getting to the part of the story that I want to write.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Chapter 5**

            _A long streak of lightning broke the sky, illuminating the dark seascape.  Waves crashed against the ship, lapping over on the sides and drenching the crew above.  Somewhere, a far distant voice called out, but that was lost on the wind, with all the other voices.  _

_            Jack held the wheel with a death grip.  There was little hope to have any control in this storm, but if he could hold out just a little bit longer.  It had been going on a long time.  He knew that in one more hour, bright skies would shine overhead again.  If he could just hold a bit longer.  _

_            "It's not going to let up!" Will shouted.  He struggled towards Jack, clinging to the railing to steady himself.  Another wave crashed over the ship, sending him sprawling to the ground.  "Jack, we can't go on like…"_

_            "Are you giving in?" Jack asked quietly.  Will stared at Jack, and Jack returned his gaze.  _

_            "No," Will said.  He turned around, scrambling back towards the crew.  Jack watched the figure until he could no longer see him.  The ship tilted again, crashed by a wave, and Jack slid to one side.  The wheel slid with him, spinning as he moved, but Jack righted himself and held the ship steady. Just a little longer.  _

_            Somewhere, Jack thought he heard a feeble cry, someone calling his name.  He looked upwards at the sky, wondering.  Not yet, he pleaded.  This can't be my end.  But the voice was not a call from another life.  _

_            "Will!" he heard Anamaria shouting.  Jack peered into the storm, and picked up the repeated sound of his name.  "Man overboard!"  Jack's hands loosened on the wheel, his heart stopping immediately.  Was he hearing correctly?  The way it added up…no, don't think about that.  Keep on.  _He's on this ship, I know it.  

            _Will felt himself sinking lower and lower into the waves, but he fought to stay afloat.  He called out for Jack, for anyone really, but mostly for Jack.  He was not going to die now.  His lover was on that ship!  _Jack, where are you?  Jack, help me.  For once, I cannot help myself!  _He fought to stay afloat, but he could no longer see the hull of the Black __Pearl__.  The wind only carried the crash of the waves around him and the thunder above.  There was no other sound.  He let out a long wail, but he could no longer catch the sound of his own voice.  _

_            He looked up at the sky above him, dark and hopeless, glaring down at him.  Rain pounded his face and stung his eyes, but he did not blink.  His limbs felt heavy, very heavy.  He could not lose consciousness.  He had promised not to give up, hadn't he?  Jack's face flashed before his eyes, as if illuminated by the lightning in front of him.  The sweet face of Jack.  Will reached for it, but it dissipated.  To his right he thought he heard the man's laughter.  To his left he heard Jack moan, whispering incoherent words in the darkness of their cabin.  Jack's shadow graced over him, their lips touching.  Will craned up his head to find it behind him, to reach out, grab a strand of beads, and pull himself to safety.  _

_            But all he found was water and darkness.  _

_            The next thing that Will felt was sand on his back.  He had drifted so far from the ship that he made it to an island and beached himself.  He coughed up some water and plummeted into darkness again.  _

_            And when he awoke, he was in a foreign world.  _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        

            "Jack!"  The world around him was fuzzy, hazy in a sort of twilight, probably just before morning.  His head ached and he felt too tired.  It was morning; he should be awake.  He tried to sit up where he was, but the world spun and he fell back on the cobblestones.  

            "It's moving!" he heard someone cry.  Three children crowded around him.  Their pale faces were blending together in a swirl of color, sometimes accented by a flash of hair or clothing.  He could not make out the difference.  He felt so weak, so tired.  

            "Poor him," a little boy said, shaking his head and making clicking sounds.  A girl, probably around nine, knelt down beside him and put a hand to his cheek.  

            "Are you okay?" she questioned, but her two friends gasped and yanked her away from it.  

            "Don't touch it!" said the third, another girl of about four.  

            "Who knows what's wrong with him.  No one sleeps out on the streets if they want to stay alive," the boy proclaimed with a smirk.  The girl slapped the back of his head, glaring.  

            "Well, he's obviously alive, so there's nothing to worry about."  She smiled again and squatted down beside the prone figure.  She put both of her hands behind him, and with all her strength, lifted him up.  He struggled to help her, but how weak he was.  He groaned in pain.  "I'm sorry about them, really.  We found you outside our house and were curious."  

            "What's…the time?" he said.  He looked around him, trying to figure it out, but there was no sign in the overcast sky to help him.  All three of them looked up and around.  

            "Dunno," the boy answered, "probably around eight in the morning.  You can't really tell it what with the clouds, but it is.  Mother says it's because the va…"

            "That's enough," the older girl commanded sharply.  The boy slowly closed his mouth and crossed his little arms.  

            Slowly, the haze surrounding the man's vision cleared, and he looked around him.  Memories floated in and out of his head, not exactly clear just yet, but he would find them sometime.  He glanced around at his surroundings.  The buildings were all stone, strong structures with vines creeping up them in some places.  The cobbled street below him was made of dark stones.  Currently, he was leaning against the side of a building.  A cool sea breeze tickled his face.  Sea breeze…sea breeze…

            "No," he whispered.  Suddenly, he sprang up, despite the protests in all of his body.  The world spun around him; he grasped the wall for support.  "No, no, no!"  The children backed fearfully away from him.  

            "Are you all right, sir," the sweet girl inquired.  But he was moving down the street away from them.  

            "Yes!" he called.  "I am fine, but I must find the port!  Maybe I will return…"  He broke into a lopsided run, keeping balance as best he could with his pounding headache and weak limbs.  Damn those sailors, he shouted inside his head.  They were the ones to press so many drinks upon him and then desert him, just as he presumed.  He followed the scent of the ocean.  The buildings around him thinned out.  He stumbled forward, forcing himself onward even if he could not feel or see because of the horrid headache.  He fell forward to the ground, landing with a splash in a puddle of water.  He lifted up his face, glanced around, before staggering to his feet and charging ahead.  

            Suddenly, the buildings vanished, and in front of him was the port, the water glowing slightly in a dim morning light.  Men busied themselves all around, doing who knows what.  He slowed to a walk and hurried towards the nearest man.  

            "The Fleeting Dream?" the man replied to his questioning.  "Well, I think it embarked this morn, early.  Sorry ye missed i'."  He suddenly felt very weak, more so then before.  They were gone without him, deserting him in this unknown town where he was cut off from all other civilization.  

            "God, no," he muttered, turning around.  He ran a hand through his tangled hair.  "But I have to leave here!" he said aloud.  

            "Oh," the man behind him exclaimed.  "Yer that other crew member, no?"  He nodded once.  "Just wha' I though.  Said they had to leave you 'ere, now that you had come.  Sorry 'bout that, I really am."  The man made to turn around, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.  

            "But I have to get out of here!" he shouted.  "I have to go back.  Someone's looking…I know that he's searching, no matter how long it's been.  He's always searching, always watching, waiting.  If I am here then his search is in vain and I am dead in his mind.  I am alive!  I have to get out of here.  Do you have any other ships?"  The man shook off the hand.  

            "No, we don't," he responded kindly.  "Well, unless we have to use those, but we rarely do.  Sorry, lad, that they ran off on ye like that.  Just the way it is," the man shrugged his shoulders.  

            With a sigh, the lost soul turned back to the ocean.  He took a few steps along the quay towards the sea.  Why did it have to happen like this?  What misfortune brought along this desertion?  And what was he to do about this?  For all he knew, his past life was over, the life before the Fleeting Dream, that is.  No more connection to his beloved, nothing to keep him grounded in his old life.  

            "Listen, if ye want a good inn to stay at there's one a bit down.  Ye look a bit tired and pale.  Lie down some…"  The words floated past his ear.  He turned listlessly in the direction the man was pointing him to see the first inn on the wharf.  

            "Tonight," he muttered.  "I'll go there tonight."  Now, he needed some time to wander around…or anything to get his mind off the problems in front of him.  The Fleeting Dream was gone.  There were no other ships that sailed from this port, meaning there was no way for him to return back to his home.  

            He stumbled away from the man, who called out to him, and made his way far away from the ocean that called to him.

~~~~Two weeks later~~~~~~

            "So…well…we aren't getting very far then," Jack said, staring out across the calm seas.  In the distance, he could see the faint outline of their companion ship, not making any headway either.  Jack cursed and glared up to the sky where a blistering sun beat down upon them.  "When there's damn good reason to get somewhere I can't get anywhere!"  He slammed his hat on his head and stomped down to the main deck from the wheel.  Beads of sweat trickled down his face and into his eyes.  He blinked a few times to clear his eyes.  A wind would be a nice change from this blistering sun...and then they would be moving.  

            It had been like this for two days now, completely calm, steady weather, no wind, no clouds, only sea and sun and sky.  Dead calm, dead calm..._oh Will I would be coming, if I could.  Damn this all!  If something doesn't happen soon I will have to get angry.  _

Jack made his way back to his cabin, calling something out to Anamaria on the way.  He threw open the door before slamming it back behind him.  His head pounded.  He bent down towards the floorboards.  Carefully, Jack pried one free.  He cast a fearful glance around before pulling an unopened bottle of rum free.  The amber liquid glowed in the bright sunlight.  Jack stood up, fell back on his bed, and took a long swig of it.  He felt better already.  

            "This'll pass.  It always passes.  Always..." he told himself before letting himself drink his way out of reality.  

***

            Jack dreamed again that night.  

            _He saw a smashed ship upon the rocks of an unknown island, its hull cracked, the mast sticking up in one final resistance to the frothing waves around it.  On the mast flew a pirate flag, his pirate flag, with a skeleton holding a cutlass, an hourglass beside it.  Jack's vision skimmed over the ship.  There was nothing left alive on it, the sailors helplessly lost to the waves.  There were voices on the wind, crying out, some recognizable, others not.  Jack strained to stand upon the deck of his precious ship, ruined by the rocks of an uninhabited island.  _

_            But it was not uninhabited.  Jack saw through the thick mist enshrouding him a port.  There were a few ships in it.  People stood at its edge, seemingly ghost people, with white skin and hair that swirled around them in ways that hair should not, perfectly black eyes staring at the wreckage indifferently.  Their lifeless faces observed the world around them, the mist, the clouds, the waves, as if all were everyday occurrences to them.  Rage filled Jack, and he shouted out to them, his anger at losing his most prized ship overflowing suddenly.  None turned to look at him; they were still as statues.  _

_            But someone did move.  He stepped forward, standing alone at the very edge of one dock.  Will stretched his arm out to Jack, calling to the pirate above the water.  Jack saw tears on his tanned face.  He graced a hand on that cheek.  It was warm and flushed, beaten by the winds around him.  But those same winds scooped Jack up and whisked him into the clouds, far away from his beloved.  Will fell to the deck, sobbing.  _

And somewhere, far from where Jack slumbered in his drunken sleep, another man woke crying as he saw Jack whirl away in an eddy in the wind from him.  

***

            Will Turner slowly regained his composure, wiping the wet lines of salty tears from his eyes.  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and onto the hard floors beneath him, making his way to a washing basin in his small room.  He splashed his face a few times with the water while choking back more sobs.  

            Dreams of Jack had haunted him almost nightly for the past five years, but it never softened the pain of them.  They always brought with them a deep aching in Will's heart, where the hollow that once Jack's constant love filled.  There was nothing left there, nothing for Will to have.  

            He made his way back to the bed, straightening the covers so that he could crawl under them once more and sleep out another night alone.  But sleep did not come.  He tossed and turned on the mattress, but the night's noises kept him awake.  Across from him, he heard shouted and squeals, drunken laughter and a woman's high trilling, all coming from one of the many brothels lining this road.  Will buried his head in the pillow, but the sound did not go away.  

            Finally, he gave in.  Will rose and stormed across the room, throwing open the door to the hall.  It was dimly lit by evenly spaced torches along one side.  The other side of the wall was railing of waist height, looking down upon a large hall below.  This late at night, there were a few people sitting by the giant fireplace on one side of the inn's wall.  Will wandered away and out the door, heading aimlessly down the street.  Somewhere in the direction he walked, he guessed, was the docks, and the shore.  

            A good look at the ocean might do him some good.  

            It would have at least squelched the ideas in Will's head that somehow, someway, he could meet up with Jack again, across this far distant ocean to the cluster of islands so affectionately called the Caribbean.  

            Will did see the ocean, dark and endless without a moon to light it, and his heart fell.  He leaned back on a wall and closed his eyes to rest his spinning head.  Why did the night always make it look so big?  It was only a week's good sailing away.  That was not far, he knew.  He could sail that easily.  

            "Ummm, excuse me, sir?  Are you going to come in or just lean beside the door?  This is an inn, you know," a voice said beside Will.  He looked down to see a woman staring up at him with dark brown eyes.  She pointed to the sign above Will's head.  "You look lost, and this inn takes in many wayfarers, no matter who they be.  Come on in and we'll get you settled.  No one should be alone this late."  Will followed her through the door and into a spacious room beyond.  The common of the inn was well lit, men crowded around the fire with drinks in hand as they conversed with each other.  

            "Now, I think that I have a room that should work for you.  I'll need to have your name..."  She waited, a strand of her light hair falling in front of her pale face.  

            "Willam Turner," Will finally said.  His throat felt dry.  The innkeeper smiled at the name.  She wrote it beside a room number and scribbled another note next to that.  

            "The room's up the stairs and at the end of the hall.  I suspect...you don't know when you are leaving this place.  You can pay off your rent slowly, whenever you can, in fact."  The innkeeper gestured around her.  "I do hope you get settled and come down and socialize some.  Most of the residents here are very friendly, and, if you don't mind me saying, you look lonely.  Oh, and by the way," she added as Will made to leave, "my name is Setia.  I own this inn, and if there is anything that you need, please tell me."  She smiled warmly at him, and Will returned it with a little less enthusiasm.  He made his way up the stairs at the far end of the room.  

            As he ascended the steps, a shifting of the shadows caught his eye.  Will looked down, and off to a corner he saw a man, brooding alone, his arms folded across his chest, his head bowed.  A cascade of black hair fell down to his shoulders, blending almost perfectly with the grey around him.  He wore a black cloak that hid the rest of him.  Still, even though he looked intently at the ground, Will had the strange sensation that he watched him.  Will hurried his pace up the stairs, leaving the mysterious figure behind.  

            The room was just where the sweet innkeeper told him it would be.  He found the door propped open, and he entered, expecting to find a simple room, but what met him was an amazing sight.  

            The first thing that caught his eye was the great bay window, overlooking the port and all its spectacles.  The Atlantic glittered in the light of the full moon, also casting shadows across the wooden floors of the room.  To one side a lamp burned, casting dancing lights across the furniture.  There was no bed in this room, but there were two great chairs with large cushions.  Both of the chairs were black, but there appeared to be a rose motif upon them.  There was also a small couch.  The walls around him were painted a simple cream color.  There was a large rug on the floor.  Will took a step into the room, seeing another door leading off into what he guessed was the bedroom.  He closed the door behind him and looked around.  There were tables scattered here and there, made of a beautiful wood Will had never seen before.  He ran his hand along the perfect surface, relishing the feeling.  

            The sound of crying suddenly graced his ears.  His head shot up, and he froze, intent on the sound.  There it was again, the faint cries of a little girl.  Will thought that maybe sweet Setia had made a mistake.  Someone else was in the room.  

            "Is anyone here?" he called out gently, fearful to frighten the child more.  He took a step towards the closed door.  "Hello?"  

            The door creaked open, and a little hand snaked around it.  Will took a few steps closer as the girl emerged from behind the door.  She sniffed and backed away from Will, her puffy eyes growing even wider.  

            "Don't say anything," she whispered through a sob.  Her little face was so torn, and he wanted to help her, but fear for her held him in place.  She wiped some tears from her face with the sleeve of her dress.  Will just waited for her to say more.  

            "Please," Will began, but she crumpled to the floor, hiding from him, her sobbing escalating.  

            "I don't want to leave," she cried out, the tears falling down her cheeks now with renewed strength.  "I never want to leave here!  You can't take me away!"  Will approached her and put a hand on her little shoulder, but she screamed and clawed at it.  He slowly took it away but did not rise.  

            "I mean you no harm," he said kindly.  "Is this your room?"  The girl looked up at him quite confused.  

            "My room?" she almost laughed as an adult would.  "No one has ever asked me that."  Her face hardened, and she stared deep into Will's eyes.  With a sniff, she stood, looking down at the kneeling Will.  "Who are you?"  Will looked up at her swollen deep blue eyes.  

            "My name is Will," he told her.  She thought for a moment.  

            "No, it isn't," she stated, bending down a little to come even with him.  "People just call you Will.  The innkeeper doesn't.  She knows you as Willam."  Will almost fell back.  

            "How?" he sputtered, taken aback.  The girl smiled, and held out her little hand.  

            "Don't worry, Willam, I can feel it," she comforted him.  "I just don't want to leave this room!"  The odd escapade ended, and she wiped some more tears harshly from her eyes.  Will suddenly reached out and pulled away her hand.  

            "Don't do that," he chided.  "That will just make your eyes even redder."  She bowed her head and hid behind her wavy red hair.  Will parted the hair, and she lifted her head.  

            "Really, it's alright though.  What is your name?  I am not as gifted as you."  She grinned warmly.  Turning away, she clasped her hands behind her back.  

            "My name is Ella!" she said cheerfully, bouncing a little.  Will rose now.  "If you would like to know, I am six."  The question had only begun to form itself in Will's mind.  She grinned again and jumped to the window.  

            "Willam, or Will because that's easier to say, come look at the water and we can talk."  She bounced to the window and touched the glass with her hand.  Will followed.             

            "It is so pretty," she sighed.  "I love Miana, and this window overlooks the best place of the city, the port!  I never want to leave this room."  

            "Why are you here?"  Will wondered.  This, at least, stumped Ella.  

            "Well," she started hesitantly, "it was raining, and I needed a place to stay.  The innkeeper took me in, but I started to explore, and she thought I disappeared when I really just hid up here.  I love this room!"  Her little pale face lit up, and she giggled.  "It is so big and spacious."  

            "Yes, I can agree with that," Will said lightly, her glee lifting his dark heart just a little.  This little child intrigued him, made him wonder.  She hid alone in this room?  That was strange, for sure.  Will shook his head to clear it of those thoughts.  

            The child smiled a wide grin at him again, and Will couldn't help but return it. Even the brooding longing for Jack briefly departed from him, if only for a fleeting time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

            YAY!  I can finally bring Will back into this!  Hehehee....I have fun plans for next chappie....just wait.  Everything will come clearer...^-^  If I feel like it! ~.^ 

            Now just drop me a little review and make me all the happier!  

{~.^}


	6. Chapter 6

**            Sorry for the late posting, but I hope the fact that this is a pretty long chapter makes up for that.  I've been busy for a while and haven't had time to write, but I'm sure that this story will go much faster from here.  I've gotten to the interesting part.  Hehehe...mwahahhahahahahahaha!**

**            And another note: this is unbeated.  The betaed one will be up soon...I hope...**

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Chapter 6

            "Will, Will, Will!  Get up!"  Ella shouted from the living room.  Will rolled over in bed, moaned, and sat up.  Grey light shone through his window, something akin to sunlight.  There was activity outside his window, the late morning finally summoning people from their houses.  "I want to go into town but you slept late again, Will!  You slept late again!" 

            "Well, I'm up now," Will yelled back.  He slid out of his bed and groggily made his way out of the room to the living room, where Ella stood by the window, her face pressed on the glass.  She did not turn at the sound of his footsteps, only smiled. 

            "I'm glad you got up, sleepyhead," she said with a giggle.  Will stood behind her, staring at the port.  "I told you we needed to go shopping today, didn't I?  And I could show you Miana, since you are...new here.  Come on, there's breakfast downstairs."  Will hesitated, but with much tugging from Ella, finally made his way down to the first floor of the inn. 

            It bustled with activity, five long tables set out for breakfast.  Men ate and talked with each other, discussing their business over a fresh cooked breakfast that made Will's mouth water.  He had not had a decent meal in days.  It would probably compare to Gibbs cooking (when he had fresh food to cook with, that is), if not better it. 

            "What's wrong?  You look to me like someone's come back to haunt you, like an old friend, perhaps."  Will looked at Ella, whose little face scrunched up in worry for him.  He patted her on the head. 

            "Nothing's wrong," he assured her.  "I was only thinking to myself.  You know, though, that food does look good."  He sat down at one of the few vacant seats.  In front of him was already a fresh meal.  Without waiting, he dove into it, thankful for some nice food once in a while.  Beside him, Ella ate with care.  Will did note, with some sadness, that even the day after restocking supplies, when all the food was fresh, Gibbs meals did not compare to this.  It had been almost six years since Will had food this nice. 

            He leaned back in his chair, finally finished with the meal.  Ella folded her little hands in her lap and waited. 

            "Well, I suppose we should go pay for this, somewhere," Will said, but he felt two hands on his arms, and a woman's head leaned down over his shoulder. 

            "No need," Setia said.  "That's included with the total price, don't worry, which means you won't have to pay that back for a while."  She grinned.  "Well, did you sleep well?  I hope there wasn't too much noise in your room or anything.  Oh!  Ella, how are you doing?"  Setia switched shoulders to look at Ella better.  Ella smiled. 

            "Wonderful!  Will here found me, and he's promised to keep me safe, isn't that right Will?"  Will laughed nervously.  There was a blush creeping into his face, the closeness of Setia reminding him all too well of another human. 

            "So, what do you plan to do in your first day here, lad?"  Ella tugged on Setia's skirt.  Will sighed. 

            "Young Ella here's decided we have to explore," Will said.  "And, I suppose, it's a good enough idea for me."  Setia smiled.  She patted Will's shoulder and ran her hand through Ella's hair, producing giggles from the girl. 

            "Well, then, I expect you back here tonight?  Maybe this time you'll come and join us down here for some merrymaking tonight.  You've been here a week and still haven't come down!  Love to have you here."  With a wave, she left, striding towards another group of people on the other side of the room. 

------------

            "Oh, Will, come on!  Stop staring off at the ocean."  But Ella fell silent.  She plopped down beside Will on the ground.  Will ignored her.  He stared through a window of the second story tavern where they sat for lunch.  He saw clearly from the window the surrounding oceans, vast, expansive, making him fully realize that this island was stranded, separated from all land for hundreds of miles.  Birds circles overhead, seabirds, calling on the wind in their faraway voices.  Will woke in the morning to those voices.  Will worked as they circled overhead.  He crept to his cabin at night as they called the final word after sunset. 

            "He's out there, isn't he?" Ella whispered.  Will nodded his head.  A little hand slipped into his.  "Who's out there, waiting, watching just like you are."  

            "It doesn't matter now," Will said.  He smiled at Ella.  "He presumes that I am dead, and I have no doubt that I've faded from his memory now."  He let out a weak laugh, running a hand through her hair.  "No, don't worry about that now."  He turned around, an arm draped across Ella's shoulder.  She glanced once back at the window before following him. 

            Lunch went without conversation.  Ella sometimes made a comment, but Will was lost deep in his own thoughts.  He listened to the girl's words but did not pay them any mind.  His meal sat untouched. 

            "Will, let's go somewhere else," Ella suggested after an especially long silence.  Will nodded without thinking.  They left the tavern.  Ella occasionally would drag Will into a store or such, but his mind was elsewhere.  He laughed and smiled with the child, keeping her in line when need be, but he never focused on his surroundings, the world that he wandered through. 

            "Will, do you think I should get a new dress?" Ella asked, tugging on his sleeve.  "I want a new dress, Will!"  Will shook his head to clear it of an image of Jack, grinning at him, and stared around the shop.  Ella was pointing to a collection of fabrics. 

            "Well, I don't have any money, so..." 

            "No money, eh?" someone purred behind Will.  Will whirled around to see a woman, casually leaning on the entrance to the shop.  She smirked and sauntered inside.  Two thin white arms snaked around Will's neck, hands combing through his hair.  "That's a shame.  The little girl here of yours needs a new dress."  Will pried her arms off him. 

            "I..." he said, but she put a long finger to his lips.  "No, really, I don't have any money." 

            "But I run this poor shop," she whispered.  "I get very little business and have no help of my own!  Oh, the days are so long here, in this little run down building in Miana.  If only I had assistance..."  Her eyelashes brushed against Will's neck, and a blush crept onto his cheeks.  "I could give you a dress for free if you volunteered here for a few days..." 

            "No," Will said, rather loudly.  "No, no I don't think I will.  I have other things to attend to these days."  He pulled away from the woman and took Ella by the hand.  "It was a kind offer, I know, and Ella, I am terribly sorry that I cannot get you a dress, but I have things that I must do myself.  Come along, now."  The woman ran after him as he stormed out of the shop, his cheeks red. 

            "Oh, but can you not just stay a bit longer?  You look troubled, and wearied.  At least, sweet one, tell me your name.  I am Alaren.  Please revisit my shop sometime."  But Will did not hear a word she said.  He was long gone down the street, dragging Ella behind him. 

            "I guess I won't get a dress, then," Ella sighed.  Will patted her on the shoulder. 

            "I'm sorry," he said.  Ella shrugged, brushing some of her red curls behind her head. 

            "That's okay.  I didn't trust her that much, anyway, what with her making advances on you like that, and the way you turned crimson at her touch.  You would think she was a whore, how she behaved."  Will faltered in his step, turning towards the young girl.  Did she not say she was six?  Ella winked at Will.  "Surprised, huh?  I believe that I know a bit more then you think."  She squeezed Will's hand.  "Look, Will, a sword shop!  Will, why don't we go in there now?  Please, Will, I want to see the swords?" 

            "Do you think that is good for you?  You are so..." Will stopped.  Was she so young?  He looked into the round face, her eyes shining as she pointed with one small hand to the shop.  But...Will sighed and led her down another shop, towards the doorway.  He could hear, in the distance, the familiar hammering of a smith hard at work.  Will paused in the doorway before entering. 

            The front of the shop was lined with swords, all different makes, but beautifully crafted all the same.  And there were knives, too, sitting on counters or stored in satin boxes, carefully tucked away.  Will let out a breath of air.  Now here was a sight he enjoyed.  He let go of Ella, but she did not move from his side as he glided about, entranced by the weapons.  The blades shone, the metal with such skill that Will had never seen before.  He fancied himself a skilled sword smith, yet these exceeded even his swords.  Will took one from its fastenings on the wall, an amazing cutlass.  He held out his hand to get Ella away before testing it. 

            "Well, how do you like it?" a man asked.  Will looked up to see the smith, standing behind a counter, his arms folded as he watched Will.  "It's a nice sword, if I didn't say so meself."  The man held out a dirtied hand.  "Th' name's Gil.  And you are?" 

            "Will," Will said.  He took Gil's hand.  Gil grinned, showing his rotting mouth.  "These swords are quite exceptional.  I've never seen anything like them..." 

            "Well, I've had a while to master my technique, to say the least."  Gil laughed.  "You look like a craftsman yourself.  How long have you worked at the art?"  Will shrugged. 

            "Ten years, I'd say."  The man nodded. 

            "Probably why.  A young lad like you hasn't enough time to observe the masters around him.  Too caught up in other things, I'd guess."  Will laughed.  There was something about this Gil, something different from the others in the town around him, just the way he moved, the way he talked, as if he was more...human...  "Yes, I wager you aren't old enough to dedicate yourself to swordmaking just yet.  Why, it wasn't until I was getting upwards in my years I hit my peak." 

            "What do you mean he's not old enough?" Ella asked.  "He could do it just fine, I bet."  Gil peered over the counter at the small figure below him. 

            "Well, fancy seeing you 'ere, Ella.  Don't look at me with that face neither.  I wasn't saying anythin' against Will 'ere, but just stating facts.  He's a young lad, and one that's probably got talent, it's just not honed in the right way now."  Will put a hand on Ella's shoulder. 

            "It's all right."  Then, he looked between Gil and Ella.  "So, he's an acquaintance of yours, Ella?"  Ella smiled.

            "Gil used to feed me when I couldn't find other food.  He's always very generous."  Gil nodded. 

            "Aye, this little one 'ere had trouble finding a suitable meal, so I always was ready to offer up..."  Ella glanced at Gil, and Gil stopped mid-sentence.  "I always made room for her at me table."  Ella motioned to Will, who had turned his attention to a sword hanging behind Gil.  She coughed, bent over, and Gil formed an "oh" with his mouth.  "Yes, Ella's a handful." 

            "I'd have to agree to that," Will said.  Gil came round the counter now, and for the first time Will noticed that he walked with a cane, limping on one leg.

              "But I'm glad she's got a caretaker now, assumin' that's what you are.  Well," Gil said with a change of subject.  "Could I interest you in some swords, maybe that one you're holdin' right there?  It's a nice one." 

            "I would gladly consider them," Will said.  "But I have no money on me."  Gil laughed. 

            "Of course, of course.  You new here, then, to Miana, that is."  Will hung his head. 

            "You could say that," he said.  Gil put an arm around him, having trouble reaching Will's shoulders.  With the help of his cane, he managed it.  "The Fleeting Dream's crew abandoned me here.  I thought I would sail away with them, but I woke to find them gone."  Gil sighed and gazed up at Will. 

            "Deepest apologies, lad.  I'd heard 'bout that but never thought really about it.  So you're here to stay then?"  Will's anger flared. 

            "No, I am not here to stay!  As soon as I get the chance, I'm leaving here."  Gil raised his hands. 

            "Sorry to offend ye, Will.  But, if ye don't mind me askin', what's wrong with Miana?"  Will looked around him, at the swords, the perfect swords, then down to Ella, with her pale skin and shining eyes, and back to Gil, his rough face staring at him with a perplexed look.  He stared at the window to the city, in his semi-night darkness, with people buzzing about as if it was mid-day, chatting, happy, some shouting at the others.  But...something was wrong with them, different.  Yes, there were those like Gil, and many of those here in this section of town, clearer, more human, but through Will's wandering in the week that he had been in Miana he noticed many of the higher class areas, boasting larger homes near to the edges of the two hills, felt...false.  The people laughed and argued and interacted the same, but the air around them was darker, cooler, and it sent shivers through Will.  Their eyes were shining, as Ella's were, but dark brown or black, and their skin was pale, some bordering on white.  He felt so...out of place among them, as if they were not even...

            "I don't know," Will whispered.  "I just want to get away.  Miana isn't right."  Gil cleared his throat, but he stopped as Ella stepped forward.  She measured them with a steady gaze. 

            "Will, maybe we should return to the inn now," she said.  Will stared at the child in further amazement.  "Gil, sir, I am sorry we can't stay, but Will looks a bit weary.  Come on Will."  She began tugging on Will's sleeve, but Will did not move.  He shook her hand free, sending her backwards with a yelp. 

            "No, I won't go, all right?  I've noticed something different about this town, and I want to know what is happening.  What's going on?  Something's not adding up here and both of you know what it is!"  Ella took a step forward, but Will turned on her.  "What is it?" he shouted.  Ella gasped before falling to the ground, sobbing. 

            "Will, Will!" she cried.  Will kneeled beside her and took her in his arms.  "Will, don't yell like that."  He rocked back and forth as she clung to his tunic.  "You frightened me, Will.  Don't ever yell like that!"  Will kissed the top of Ella's head, holding her tightly. 

            "I'm sorry, Ella.  I got out of hand.  I did not mean to.  Shhh, there's nothing wrong now.  I won't do that again."  Ella sniffed, looking up at Will.  Her bottom lip trembled.  "Please, don't cry now."  He smoothed Ella's tousled hair and wiped the tear stains from her cheeks.  "I promise not to yell at you like that again." 

            "Will, you're scary."  Gil snorted, and Will chuckled. 

            "Well, I'm sorry.  I won't scare you anymore."  He assisted Ella to her feet.  "Let's go Ella."  He faced Gil.  "I'm sorry for the commotion, Gil.  Maybe another time we could talk again, and I would like to hear some of your techniques for making these nice swords."  Gil grinned. 

            "Good start, there, lad."  He waved to them.  "Go on, now.  I have work to do, anyways."  Will took Ella's hand and guided her away, down the bustling street and towards the wharf, Will with a heavy heart and Ella in silence. 

            Ella felt the anger and sadness penetrating through Will's expressionless mask.  His head was turned only to the water, only towards the sparkling ocean beyond.  What ties did he have to some faraway land?  Surely, Miana's beauty had been enough to break away from that world of his.  But Will held fast to another land, another time.  Nothing they could do would break him from that, nothing.  Ella hung her head. 

            Will sighed.  His feet drug along the cobbles.  To his right and left were people, humans, all traditional, without worries.  And they acted as if there were no problems with the city around them, oblivious to the world.  But Will knew better. 

            _Oh, Jack, what would you do?  _He hung his head, clutching his chest.  Jack, what would he do?  _You...you would plunge right into this, no matter what the dangers, without a worry of what could happen to you.  You wouldn't sit back and let all of this happen around you while you have no answers..._

"So why can't I?  Why am I not strong enough?" Will whispered.  He closed his eyes, stumbling forward.  "What's wrong with me!"  But his shout was drowned out by another scream, followed by the pounding of feet and more shouts.  Will looked up to see the crowd suddenly rushing towards the wharf.  Ella was tugging on Will's hand. 

            "Something's happening!" she screeched.  Will bolted ahead of her, despite her cries.  He shoved through the press of bodies.  Had a ship come?  What was it?  _Jack!_  Will let out a long cry and broke through the throng of bodies.  He could see the water ahead of him.  And there...

            A shipwreck.  There was a sharp intake of breath, and Will felt himself lurch forward.  He ran towards the water, the torn fragments of the ship floating around the bay and crashing against the jagged rocks.  He darted onto one of docks. 

            "Will!" Ella cried.  But Will did not hear her.  He knelt beside the water.  A ship's bow, crushed, driftwood now.  And there were bodies, smashed on the rocks without mercy or care.  Will felt tears creeping into his eyes, tears he had tried not shed for so long.  He scanned the waters for something, anything. 

            "But it wasn't him.  He doesn't know I'm alive," Will told himself.  Still, what if it was him?  Will heard footsteps behind him.  There was Setia, calling for Will.  He swayed on his knees, threatening to tumble over.  And there was Gil, shouting for Will to come back.  Will slipped forward but caught himself. 

            And out of the corner of his eye, he saw. 

            On the rock nearest to him, he saw a cutlass.  That scabbard...Will would know it anywhere.  And the sword belt: how many times had he unclasped that, how many nights had he undone it for his captain.  He reached forward with a trembling hand.  But upon the belt was a stone, fastened there.  Will could barely make out the outline of a ship on it...

            "Will!" Setia cried.  "Will, what are you doing?  Don't fall like that!"  She ran towards him.

            The waves crashed again, scattering the wood of the ship.  Jack...Jack...Will reached down and found a plank.  He pulled it towards him, sobbing.  How could it be?  If that was true, then he undoubtedly walked across this plank thousands of times...as did Jack, his beloved Jack.  And maybe this was the plank under them as they kissed on starlit nights, Jack's rough lips, but so sweet, an antidote for all of Will's sorrows.  Or possibly, it was flooring for Jack's cabin, a floorboard they fell upon when they missed the bed, too engrossed in each other and their own passion to notice. 

            "Jack, don't leave me," he whispered.  "I told you to not leave me, Jack.  But...so why are you gone?"  Will slumped forward, the board going with him.  Two arms caught him, but was it Jack?  No, not Jack...Jack.  And before he lost consciousness, he saw a lone ship on the horizon, but it faded into the mist without a trace. 

------------

            "Will, can you hear me?  Will, please wake up.  Will, wake up, now.  Will, Will!"  Setia bent over Will's body.  He groaned and shifted, but did not wake.  She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.  "Will, you have to wake up." 

            "You could..."  Setia whirled around to see another man.  He leaned on the doorframe to Will's bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest.  He blew a strand of black hair from his face. 

            "Nakuri, I'm not going to try anything on him.  He's just fainted, that's all, and has just been surprised by something."  Nakuri growled and stepped forward.  He loomed over the bed. 

            "He knew those men aboard the ship.  You must get information out of him now, no matter what state he's in; in fact, with him weaker like this, it will be much easier for you."  Setia shook her head, glaring. 

            "I will do no thing.  Anyway, Ella would probably attempt to murder me if I did.  She already told me she doesn't want anything happening to Will, _nothing.  _So calm down Nakuri and wait for him to rise.  He's cooperative; I'm sure we'll get something out of him even when he's awake."  Nakuri rolled his eyes before stepping away from Setia.  "Thank you.  Now, where's Ella gotten to?  I told her to go find him some food in the kitchens..." 

            "Setia, Setia, I have the food!" Ella cried.  She ran into the room but stopped short at the sight of Nakuri.  "What are you doing here?" she asked.  "You won't harm Will, will you?"  A woman stepped out from behind Ella and strode into the room.  She wrapped her arms around Nakuri's neck, nuzzling his shoulder. 

            "He will do no such thing," Alaren insisted.  "Will you, Nakuri?"  Setia glowered at Alaren. 

            "You're here now?  When did I summon you?"  Alaren looked around innocently. 

            "Well, Nakuri's here, so I followed him..."

            "The only reason Nakuri's here is because he saved Will!  Now get out.  I don't want to see your face unless you have something important to tell me or some contribution to Will!"  Will let out a wail and clutched at Setia's arm.  Her fact lit up. 

            "Will, can you hear me?  It's Setia.  Will, come back..."  Will opened his eyes.  The world around him was fuzzy, blank shapes without faces or names.  And his mind returned to only one word: Jack.  Will reached out towards the blob closest to him. 

            "Oh, look, the lovely lad's awake now," Alaren commented.  Nakuri sighed. 

            "Too late," he whispered.  Ella took a tentative step forward. 

            "Jack?" Will muttered.  "Jack, where am I?  Jack, what's happened, I feel so weak...oh, god, no..."  Setia's face came into view, and Will backed away.  "It's true, isn't it?  It's true!  Jack, Jack!"  Setia held Will in her arms as he sobbed, unable to control his fears.  But he wrenched free of her arms.  "No, stay away from me, all of you!  You aren't normal, aren't right.  None of you are.  It's you monsters that killed Jack, you monsters and this port and everything about you and it and..."

            "This Jack that you speak of is not dead," Nakuri said.  Will turned to him, and his eyes went wide.  That was the man...the man beside the stairs that he saw his first night here.  What was he doing here? 

            "How do you know?" Will whispered.  "How do you know this about Jack!  What do you know about him, as it is?  If you know anything you must tell me, tell me..."  He choked back a sob, and Setia took his face in her hands.  "That was his sword there, dammit.  How can you say he's not dead?" 

            "Easily," Nakuri responded.  Setia turned a glare of daggers on him. 

            "Take some pity, Nakuri.  Even you can have a heart once in a while."  Nakuri shrugged. 

            "If you don't want me..."  He turned to leave, but Will stretched out a hand. 

            "No, don't go."  _What am I saying?  _He looked at his hand; he did not know this man...being...and yet required his presence here.  It...it was that something in Nakuri's eyes, the way he measured the world with his obsidian eyes that made Will wonder... "If you know Jack's whereabouts, stay," he said.  Nakuri swiveled on one foot. 

            "I only know that he is alive," Nakuri said.  "I can sense his life-force, his blood pumping...near here, but I cannot tell his location..."  Will backed away, flattening himself on the headboard of the bed.  Silence fell over the room.  Setia backed away from Will, and Ella began sobbing in the background. 

            "Sense?" Will asked.  "You...you are monsters, all of you.  Demons, I don't know.  But whatever you are, you stole my Jack, stole me from him, and locked me in this prison.  Let me out!"  He lunged forward.  Setia reached for him, but he danced out of his grasp.  Ella wailed in the background.  Nakuri jumped in front of the doorway, his black eyes glowing in the night.  Will ploughed through him.  He stumbled briefly, his hands tingling with cold where he had touched Nakuri.  _The chill of death..._he gasped for breath before bolting out the door and down the stairs. 

            The large gathering room of the inn was full of chattering people, laughing, drinking, carrying on without a care of the world around them.  Will trembled, slowing to a walk beside the fire.  They were oblivious.  How could they not see?  There were footsteps behind him, and Will began running, ignoring the shouts from Setia and Alaren.  He would not stay, not with these demons surrounding him.  He had to get away....

            Will did not know how far he ran before losing his breath, unable to control himself any longer.  He collapsed onto his knees, falling into a puddle of water.  He saw the reflection of the full moon, and stars glittering, the clouds of morning departing from his world of darkness.  He reached forward, but a ripple disturbed the water.  Will saw two feet step before his face, along with a long black cane.  A hand reached down. 

            "Do you need some help?" a man asked.  Will stood, straightening the front of his now wet clothing.  The man smiled to him, flicking a strand of golden hair from his face.  His pale skin reflected the moonlight into his midnight black eyes.  "Come, you look weary.  I have a place not far from here where you can rest?"  Will nodded, unable to help himself.  He stumbled forward, but the man extended a hand.  "Let me help you."  He grinned, and Will took hold of his arm.  He was cold. 

            "Oh, I do believe I've forgotten to tell you my name.  I am Moyahun, or James, if you prefer that."  James smiled, his eyes narrowing.  "And you are?" 

            "Will."  James arched his brows.  _So this is Will.  Katrina told me to keep an eye on you.  _Will tripped on a loose cobble and almost crumpled to the ground, but James caught him.  "I am sorry." 

            "No," James laughed.  "Do not apologize.  My house is here."  Will turned to see a large mansion, sitting on one of the far hills of the city.  Vines crept up its sides, and in front was a large.  Rose bushes bloomed, but Will noted with mild surprise the roses bloomed black.  "Noting the flowers?  This is Katrina's house, actually.  She lets me use it as a temporary lodging, for I am rarely in Miana." 

            A serving woman opened the door.  She rushed to take James's cane from him.  James reached out and lovingly stroked her neck.  She blushed and hurried to the other side of the large foyer. 

            "Come, to my study Will.  Beautiful lass there, bring this fine man some tea, will you?"  Another woman ran away from James, bustling to do his business.  James led Will through a maze of passageways.  The house itself was beautifully decorated, with large paintings and fine furniture, carpets from the East, ornate chandeliers at regular intervals.  Finally, they reached the study.  There was a couch and two chairs.  James motioned to the couch, and Will sank into it. 

            "Thank you for your hospitality," Will said.  James shook him off. 

           "No, I do not mind helping those in need."  James lit a solitary candle on the mantle before settling into a chair.  He crossed his legs and peered at Will.  "Willam, is there something wrong?  You look troubled."  James grinned.  "Tell me, for I can fix your problems."  He leaned forward, his smile widening into a toothy sneer.  "Willam, you look surprised?  Is something wrong?" he mocked.  Will gulped down the lump in his throat.  He was seeing something...that was not there, he had to be.  Surely this man did not...but in an instant James was gone, only to reappear beside Will.  He bent over Will, caressing his neck.  "You can tell me any of your troubles.  I might as well be your last confident."  His tongue darted over Will's vein, and James moaned.  "So fresh...you are so beautiful, dear Willam."  He smoothed back Will's hair.  "It _is_ too bad we could not spend longer together, getting to know each other..."  He kissed Will's neck.  Will struggled to break away, but James would not move, hard as a statue.  "...but my hunger has overcome propriety."  Will shook his head. 

            "What are you?" he muttered.  James gasped before smiling.  His hand traced Will's jawbone. 

            "Can you not see that for yourself, Willam dear?  Is it not plain?  Many have called me many things: demon, devil, Satan's spawn, servant of hell, but I prefer one name above all..." 

            "Vampire." 

---------------

**            Well, so who's alive and who's not?  Jack?  Will?  Or for how long, is another question.  **

**            Ah, I love questions.  And cliffies, too, if you could count this as a cliffie.  Cliffies are so much fun to write!   **

**            Reviews inspire me to write faster.  Knowing I have to write to keep my audience there is good motivation if I am stuck on a part in a story.  You see:  the fewer reviews= you will be sitting there for longer wondering who's alive and what's going to happen and what the hell is with Miana.  Savvy?    **

**            Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed already!  Arigatou!  You're all so great!  So keep up those reviews!  **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"What are you?" he muttered. James gasped before smiling. His hand traced Will's jawbone.

"Can you not see that for yourself, William dear? Is it not plain? Many have called me many things: demon, devil, Satan's spawn, servant of hell, but I prefer one name above all..."

--------

Jack yawned and stretched. Morning light poured through his cabin windows, and the seas around him were calm. All in all, it was a good day.

"Could be better," he mumbled. "If I woke to find you here." He touched the bed beside him, letting the cold wash over him, the emptiness. And he was so close, so damn close! But that ship, the Fortune, it couldn't handle it. It had fallen. Of course, Jack didn't do much to help, but what could he have done? The other ship was too strong, and the Fortune had nowhere to go with the rocks hemming it in.

Jack had heard the cannon fire from where he sat in his cabin, awaiting news; his ears were trained to that sound. He rushed out on deck, watching the faint lights in the distance through the thick fog. Then, he heard the splintering of wood, felt the anguished cries of men, and he knew the Fortune had met her match with that ship from this city.

But why would they be doing that? What did they have to hide from the world, what? He rolled over. There was a half-finished bottle of rum sitting on his beside table, the liquid glowing in the light of the candle. Jack reached for it, but Will's chastising voice carried through his head. "You drink too much." "Jack, put down that bottle." "Please, for me, Jack, stay sober tonight. You are so...perfect when sober." "Jack, I love you." "I love you...I love you..." Jack closed his moist eyes. Surprised, he reached up to his cheek to feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes, collecting on his dark lashes.

"Crying? But I don't cry. I'm...I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, right? I'm...the infamous pirate captain. What pirate cries? But...but...but what pirate had the benefit to sail with their lover, know he was so close every night and every day...and then lose him...lose him and not be able to shake his memory. For five years I chased that damned lad, five years I waited for the time he would come back to me. And he's here! I know he's here! But...but this damned bloody town goes off and sends a ship to bring the Fortune, our only hope, down. And she falls. So what am I left with? Nothing! All because this place doesn't want any intruders or some damned stupid thing like that!" He shook with rage, silent tears cascading down his cheeks. Not even Will had seen him cry.

But here he sat and sobbed, for a reason unknown other then pure heartbreak.

There was a knock on his door.

"Unless yer a tall lad named William Turner don't enter," he grumbled. Whoever it was caught his message and left. Jack rolled over. He could see the water, cold, dark water despite the sunlight pouring on it. Water stained with blood...and not just the blood of the Fortune. This was a land of blood he beheld.

"Blood of....Will...."

----------

Katrina strolled through the streets of Miana. The sun had risen, causing the perpetually dark land to turn a shade lighter. Humans went about their lives, but they moved away for her, nodding their heads in respect. She ignored them. Humans meant nothing to her; her stomach was full. What use were they but a snack? And she had spent too much time around them away. She had just gotten back from her stay in Tortuga, so she wanted simply to be in the company of her own kind. But even the humans in Miana were not the same as other places, more tolerable for sure.

"Lady Katrina, how are you doing today?" a human asked, bowing respectfully. Katrina shrugged.

"Just fine," she said. He bowed away. Katrina continued on, her eyes half closed as she meditated on her own thoughts.

She heard someone shouting, and saw a crowd approaching her. Setia, keeper of one of the finest feeding grounds in all of Miana, Ella...well, Katrina chuckled, she was a mystery, Nakuri, and his notorious lover Alaren, it was a crowd to be sure. They ran in the direction of the estates at the edges of the hills flanking Miana. How convenient, on Katrina's way.

"Well, Setia, it is quite a surprise to see you here," Katrina said. Setia paused only to glance once at the lady who had just materialized behind her.

"Have you seen Will?" Setia gasped. Katrina thought for a moment, easily running in stride with them.

"No, but I do believe that James is talking to him....currently...oh damn!" Alaren and Nakuri turned to look at Katrina. "Well, pardon me, but can't a woman speak her mind some also?"

"James? Oh, Moyahun, right. What is he doing back in the city, in your house nonetheless?" Katrina silenced Setia with a wave.

"Tis a long story, my dear. I'll tell it later, I suppose. Now come on. If this Will means anything to you, I believe you should hurry. I think I know where he lies now, and he will not be there for long..."

----------

Will slumped forward, coughing. His head throbbed, and his limbs felt so heavy, so weak. James sat across from him licking his lips, black eyes glistening. His cheeks were flushed from the blood coursing through his veins.

"....devil..." was all Will could manage. His hand came to his throat, where two small puncture wounds were healing over. His other hand crept towards the hilt of his sword, still hanging around his waist.

"I am far past the status of a devil, young mortal," James whispered. Raising one hand, he snapped. Will snatched his hand away just as his sword slid from its scabbard. The sword hilt landed in the James's hand, and Will let out a breath of air. "But come, is it not that you yourself fraternized with "devils," as you call us? William, silly William, this is Miana, city of devils, the accursed souls, the damned, if you will. Did you not think this yourself? Look at Setia. You have befriended her. And Alaren. And Nakuri." He pivoted slowly on one foot, idly twirling the sword in his hand.

"Liar," Will spat, using a table to lift himself up. "You lie." He glared at the vampire, threatening him to take another step forward. James merely chuckled and glided towards Will. He reached forward with a hand.

"You do not believe what you see?" James asked, moving his lips so that with each word he flashed the elongated canines. "Do you not have the wounds to prove it?" He ran his fingers along Will's neck. Will tried to swat away the hand, but James grabbed it in a vice-like grip and leaned forward. "I am no liar, William." He sniffed the fresh wounds and sighed; Will struggled to twist from his grip. "Another taste, maybe, to convince you," James breathed. His teeth snaked across the wound, and James's hands twitched. "Painful, this time, no relief from the agony of having your very lifeblood drained from you. I can do that, you know, change it, if you wish. Come now, don't give me that look. I can easily overpower you. I could kill you," he finished in a singsong voice. Will growled at him.

"You wouldn't..."

"Oh, but I would," he said joyously. "What would hold me back? Nothing, nothing at all..." The vampire gently pressed his mouth to Will's neck. The fangs punctured the surface, and Will convulsed as the first drops of blood flowed slowly and painfully from him.

I can keep my word, can I not? The vampire spoke into his mind. Will gritted his teeth and tried to fight back. But it only hurt more, for the fangs ripped at his flesh as he struggled. Every vein in his body burned with inner fire. His mind felt weak, overpowered. James smiled as he slowly drained the blood.

Will felt lightheaded; his mind was not flowing clearly. Hazy thoughts passed though his head, and there was a vague sensation of the blood flow increasing, but the pain dimmed slowly. His vision blurred, and he blinked a few times. Around him, the world spun the only conscious thought that of the two teeth embedded into his neck and the figure above him. Suddenly, he heard a crash, and the vampire above him started away. Will fell to the ground, panting. He tried to sit up, for there were noises all around him, but he could not see.

"Moyahun what are you doing?!" someone roared, possibly Setia. She advanced towards James. James turned away. Will felt a pair of arms wrap around him, small arms. Ella sobbed into his chest, calling out his name. And around him the others advanced.

Nakuri charged first, lunging at James.

"Moyahun, you were banished two hundred years ago. What are you doing back?" James shrugged, dodging a blow from Nakuri.

"I returned on orders from Lady Katrina. Surely you could not doubt her." Nakuri hissed, his body tense as he watched James meander around the room. He waved a hand. "I have not killed Will, so do not fear."

"But you have returned..."

"Yes, he has returned," Katrina said. She strode through the doorway. James saw her and dove for cover beside her. Nakuri let out a roar and made to charge again, but Katrina held up her hand. "Do not harm him here. He is under my protection, so you can do nothing to him."

"My Lady, do not stand in the way of this..." Katrina shook her head.

"James has made a mistake in almost killing William. Yes, I see that now. But he will not be harmed for it. Now, maybe there is more important business for you to take care of, for instance, the safety of Will." She bowed her head to them before exiting the room. "One more thing: I wish that you not use my house for very long. Try to return Will to the inn as soon as possible; I do not appreciate uninvited guests. Good day to you, Setia." With that, she was gone, James in tow.

Setia rushed to Will's side. She rested her fingers on Will's neck, over the quickly healing wounds.

"Damn," she whispered. "Moyahun is thorough, that's for sure. But that's not good for dear Will here. I don't think he'll live without...help..." Setia looked around the room. "That means one of us. Ella, why don't you go sit down on the couch over there for now. We can take care of Will." Ella looked up, wide-eyed.

"I want to stay with Will, though. He wants me with him."

"Ella, just now, let him be. This will not be the greatest experience for him, and whoever does this will be bound by blood to him. You understand what that entitles." Ella bowed her head.

"As you wish," she muttered. Setia rose and approached Nakuri and Alaren. Alaren wrapped her arms around Nakuri's neck.

"I would not mind taking him, such a beauty like that," she purred. "And I have plenty of blood to spare for Will. It would keep him alive..."

"I would never have you bound to him," Setia growled. "Alaren, don't touch him until this is over." Alaren pouted, but that face disappeared as Nakuri spoke.

"I'll take him," Nakuri said. Setia thought for a moment. Nakuri was lacking in a blood servant, as it was, hadn't had one for two hundred years, in fact, ever since Meden died. Without a blood servant, he had to leave the city to hunt for his meals, though Nakuri was gone from Miana for so long as it was that it did not bother him. Setia sighed and nodded.

"If you wish, you may take him. But, being that he's staying at my inn there will be a price." He shrugged, bending over Will. He took Will in his arms and walked out of the room without another word. Alaren called after him, but he had vanished from the premises.

"Sad he forgot his little whore?" Setia mocked. Alaren bared her fangs before running away, once again calling for her "dear sweet Nakuri." She shook her head. Ella took the innkeeper's hand, sniffing.

"I wonder," Setia whispered, "I wonder what it's like for that...Jack...or whatever his name is. Is he even alive? I bet it's not good for him." Ella looked up. Her eyes glowed, a blank look on her face.

"I am sure that he is, in fact, alive. But Will...well, he'd better hurry if he will in fact find Jack alive. Who knows what could go wrong?" She smiled, her sweet smile, and squeezed Setia's hand. "Come on, let's get back. I think Will might need some things explained to him once he's awake again. But..." She coughed, leaving her sentence hanging in the air.

"Yes, of course this is right," Setia said. "Otherwise, Will would die, and we wouldn't want that, would we? I mean, who would want to see him dead? He's never done anything wrong, nothing. All I feel for him is respect. He's a good man, you know." Ella smiled.

"Yep, he's a good man," she agreed.

Alaren strode beside Setia, her black eyes glowing. "Don't you think," she said, "that we should let Nakuri handle explaining everything to Will? I mean, he could manage it. He's a good man...male...too. Nakuri can take care of some things on his own."

"Well, I am returning to the inn to run my business, and Ella is coming with me, so we're heading that way as it is," Setia retorted. "You, though, I want you to stay away from Will. Do you understand? He isn't stable right now, and you won't help this at all. Will has some things to face right now, and Nakuri will probably explain this the clearest to him." Setia turned to the window and sighed as the fogs descended on the world and shrouded Miana once more, to hide that island of dead from the world.

----------

Will lifted his head. His limbs felt heavy, and his mind was sluggish as he looked around his room in Setia's inn. He was in his bed, and there was someone sitting beside him. The man had his back turned to Will, and white hands trembled on his dark clothing. He sighed and turned around. Black hairs slipped in front of his black eyes, but his face was flushed, the lips lively and red. He stood, his cloak rustling around him.

"Do you know what we are?" he said. Will attempted to sit up, but his legs protested, and he fell back on the sheets. The man came towards him, and lifted Will to a sitting position. "Do you know what we are?" he asked again. Will blinked, unable to shake his head.

"No, don't try to respond to me. I am simply voicing a question to the air, though I see that humans cannot distinguish between that and a direct question. But I digress. You are weak, I know, but I have much to explain in a short time. I suppose you already understand a little about us, after your scare with Moyahun." Will shivered, which made a small smile play across Nakuri's lips. "Of course you remember that. Yes, but you will not find trouble any longer, I assure you. Moyahun, or James, as he is known in the human world around us, has most definitely ended his stay in Miana. But...there is more that you don't know.

"Really, there's no one place I could start, just to give you some background so you aren't running through the dark. Maybe it would be best to begin with Miana.

"Miana was started, oh, around four hundred years ago, as a resting place for vampires weary of the human world. There were no humans residing here at that time, but slowly, vampires would bring with them humans, so they could feed there. The elders of the bloodlines—which I will explain to you later, not now though, so don't look so confused—, around one hundred years later, came together, understanding that Miana had grown considerably. And so, it became what it is today: a city where vampires can thrive and mingle with humans without fear. Vampires control this city, not the other way around. And the humans that live here are safe from death. It is a law in Miana that no vampire can kill a human upon this island..."

"That's all well and good, but what about me? What is happening to me?" Will shouted. Nakuri held up his hand.

"Please, be patient with me. You need the back-story. And I know that you have more questions then I can answer in a short amount of time, so I will tell you only that which is of importance.

"As I had been saying, Miana became a haven for vampires and humans alike. The vampires had a constant supply of meals, and the humans were not fearing for their lives. Still, the humans ran about without order to their lives, lost, for the streets of Miana were no more then a few inns and meal houses for the humans. Then came the construction of the town, so that it would be more welcoming to the humans, and the vampires in turned enjoyed the flavor of the life. The humans constructed many new buildings, perusing their trades from before they came to Miana. Yes, came...would that be the right word? I think then they were coming by free will, as the demand for blood was not so high.

"And here is where you should become interested, William. Only a little while ago, the Fleeting Dream was put into use as a ship that found worthy humans and carted them back to Miana to use for feeding. Since the number of vampires was so great, and most of them were permanent residents, Miana was running low on blood, and killing off some humans, merely by accident. It was by accident they found you, from what I have heard, washed on the shore of some island. But most are selected carefully, some pre-picked by vampires so they could be blood servants.

"Yes, William, blood servants, a term you will be very familiar with soon." Nakuri's shoulders slumped as he approached Will. Will coughed and waited, too entranced by the words to care what Nakuri did that this point in time. "A blood servant is a human who was fed a slight bit of a vampire's blood. After taking the blood, they are forever bound to the vampire. And if they should ever attempt to flee, death is their punishment." Will's hand crept to his neck, and he cleared his throat.

"Meaning?" he whispered. Nakuri closed his eyes.

"Look around you at this inn. Don't the rooms appear a bit nice, and isn't it odd that Setia did not even ask for payment when you came here your first night? Do you know why? Because this is, an inn devised so that humans can stay without paying their fee if a vampire takes them as a blood servant. In your case, Setia was sure someone would take you...but it happened merely by accident.

"When Moyahun—James—drained you of most of your blood, there would have been no other way for you to live. Setia entrusted you into my care. I had hoped to avoid this problem, but I had no choice but to give you some of my own blood, to save your life. Now, I think that from there, you can piece this story together." Will shook his head, glaring at the back of Nakuri.

"You mean to say that I am your blood servant, that I have your corrupted blood inside of me?" Will roared. Nakuri spun about, his black eyes glowing. He advanced on Will, fangs bared.

"What did you expect for me to do? Would you rather be dead now? Then what, you'd never get to see your precious Jack again! So you should be grateful for what I have done, now that you are alive. The blood will do no harm to you at all!"

"But I'm now your meal! Grateful? The only way I would show my gratitude would be to drive a stake through your heart." Nakuri stopped; suddenly, he erupted into fits of laughter. He clutched at his sides. Will glowered at him. "I mean no jest by that!"

"You might not, but it is in truth a jest. You can't kill a vampire that way. Old tales, simply made so that good Christians can believe they can in fact kill us. Nay, William, there are only a few ways to kill a vampire, none of them ways you would think of. So don't attempt to kill me here."

Will sat back, his eyes never moving from Nakuri, and Nakuri studied the wall beside him. So this is what it comes to? Will thought as he shifted his weight. A blood servant to a creature I do not even understand.

But you have no choice in this, William. My deepest apologies, for sure. Nakuri shook his head, leaving Will stunned. I will return tomorrow evening, most likely. Please, just mull over your thoughts. You have some adjusting ahead of you, for sure.

Will fell back as Nakuri left his rooms, staring blankly at the ceiling above him. His heartbeat beat into his head, the pumping of blood that was not his own. It rang in his ears, swept through his mind, a soft blanket of calm. Vampires...Miana...pieces of a puzzle long missing since Will's first night in the town. He knew he should have felt fear at the thought of living amongst vampires, but instead it was reassuring. Nakuri's last words soothed over his soul, and his blood pulsed through Will, the rhythm lulling him into sleep. And Ella was there for him, the little child to guide him through Miana. There were allies for him.

And his memory. Jack was still fresh in his mind, that image that would not fade. Jack smiled over him, and would through the dark nights. Will was alive, enough to keep his thoughts on Jack, moving back to that specter floating along his mind, sauntering with his arms wide, a bottle in one hand, grin plastered on his face. His ratty clothing hung from his body, beautiful despite the dirt and grime, Jack still inviting even though he stank of stale sweat and alcohol. He extended his hand, whispering words Will could not hear. The kohl around his eyes made them glimmer, light dancing across the dark irises, but not black, not only brown, deep chocolate. His skin was tan and alive, that living skin that Will wished to touch once more. He struggled to reach for his love, that love across so many distances, so many oceans.

"Keep close, Jack," he whispered, rolling over. "Please, Jack, please stay close."

And all through the night, though Will did not sleep, his mind swirled with thoughts of vampires and his lover, lost in the clouds of dreariness and his own sinking soul.

--------------------

Well, finally got out a new chapter. I'm not very happy with this one, but the next one should be a bit better, I hope. I just needed to take a break from this one for a little while...and I have severe writer's block, which has suddenly lifted on EVERYTHING! So expect postings on all of my stories soon!

Now, a review would help me even more with ending my dry streak. So if you want more, please, please, please review. Even a little comment will do so much for me now!

Thank you so much!


	8. Chapter 8

Oh, I feel so terrible I wasn't able to write a chapter on this any sooner! I feel so bad, like I've discarded this story or something. I am _extremely _sorry!

And a warning: this chapter is unbetaed, so if there are any mistakes just point those out to me please. I went over it myself, but I'm not really good at catching things. But I really wanted to get this chapter up since I'm going out of town for a long time.

----------------------------------------

Chapter 8

"Will...Will, are you doing any better?" Ella queried. She leaned on the doorframe of Will's bedroom door. Will looked up from where he had been reading and smiled at the girl. She had finally bought a new dress, and Setia had done her hair up in curls for the day. She looked like so fragile to him from there, in her bright blue skirts and red curls, but when she approached him, it was with the strides of a woman. "You've been quiet lately. I mean, I can understand why..." She pulled herself into Will's lap and leaned against him as he ran his hand through her hair.

"I just have many things to think about, Ella," he replied. Ella turned to look at him, blue eyes shimmering. "Sometimes, everyone needs their space to contemplate what is going on in their life."

"Do you really have to think?" Ella put a hand on either of Will's shoulders. "Why don't you just live? You could go through every day and think about it as you go. It would probably be more fun for you that way. I mean, you spend hours up here, reading every day, but I always feel as if your attention is elsewhere, that you're not really reading, you know? Will, what's wrong?"

"It is just a bit much for me right now, thinking about the idea of being a blood servant, knowing then that I'm bound here for life. I don't belong here, Ella! I don't. My heart is far gone from this place..."

"It's with Jack, isn't it?" Ella whispered. She put her palm on Will's heart. "Jack's what makes it beat steadily every day of your life. I feel it beating now, Will. What is Jack like, if he's so much to you, he must be a wonderful person. What was he like?" Will lifted Ella from his lap and set her down on the bed. She grabbed some of the sheets and pulled them close. "Will you tell me about him?"

"The problem is: where do I start?" He chuckled. "There's so much about him I could dive in to, but I don't want to bore you to death..."

"I am patient," Ella insisted. "Now on with it, Will!" Will glowered and her and laughed as she returned the pout.

"Well, where should I start? There's so much to tell about Jack..."

"When did you first meet him?" Will chuckled to himself, then burst into laughter. There were tears in his eyes as he saw Jack standing in front of him, cutlass drawn, a smirk on his face, the dust swirling around his head...

"Well, actually, our first meeting was confrontation. They were looking for a pirate in the town where I lived, and that was Jack. He hid in my smithy and I challenged him to a fight. He had threatened Elizabeth...a woman I once thought I loved, until I met Jack." Will laughed, recalling events that Jack would later taunt him about in bed. "I didn't know it then, but there was something deep in me though, stirring, a twitch at the corner of my mind asking 'Now what's stopping you from kissing him _now?_'' Unfortunately, it took me a while to listen to that, but it might have been there from the start. Maybe it was love at first sight. Looking back, I don't know how I didn't notice how he watched me. He loved me from the beginning; I'm sure, even though he's never come out and said it.

"I guess we grew closer throughout that journey...well, you don't know that story, do you?" Ella titled her head to one side and grinned.

"Miana has more eyes and ears then you know," she whispered, tapping the side of her head. At Will's astonished face, she giggled and hugged him around the neck. "Yep, I know. Now go on, Will, please." Will wrapped his arms around her and continued his story.

"Jack's...well, nothing short of amazing really, especially when you get to know him. He has this unexplainable drive that even I don't understand, forcing him to continue through piracy, though his crew has rotated through so many times, changing forever, but the captain remains constant. He's optimistic, flippant, a trickster. I think half of his love of piracy comes from toying with the ships. I mean, he never finds anything of true gold value, you know, simply trade items. He has to sell those then, but he keeps on. And...and he's got a heart. You would not expect it, but he rarely kills. I remember, once, after a few of the crew got out of hand and massacred a whole ship, simply to see blood, he made them take every drop of it off the other ship and drink it. Drink it!" Will laughed. "Of course that wouldn't bother most people here, but humans do have a problem with it. I had never seen him so angered in my life. And that night when he came to bed, he sat beside me trembling most of the night."

"He's seems like a wonderful person," Ella said.

"But still harsh to those below him. He keeps a tight ship, though not with as much ruthlessness as some. Some of the crew members, who we might have captured to join from other ships, were not new to piracy, and said that this ship was heaven compared to some. Which I could not imagine, watching the way he shouted at the crew. Maybe I'm not used to ship life.

"And of course he does have a problem with drinking. I don't understand it at all, but he drinks constantly, a bottle almost always in his hand. I tried to decrease that habit, so he wouldn't drink himself to death someday, but he never listened, you know. Well, he listened for a while, but not long. I bet, of course, now, that by now he's drowning himself in bottles again. It's been five years...five years since I saw him." He clutched Ella tighter.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You really do love him, don't you? I want you to be happy Will. But the winds are changing. For good or ill, they will change, and you only have a small window of hope. I do not know what else to tell you, Will. There will be changes very soon, though what they are is up to those involved." A glassy look came over her eyes, and she studied Will, breathing slowly, carefully. Will waited for her to say more, but she just giggled and jumped off the bed suddenly.

"I want to meet Jack!" she said. "I want to meet him, Will." Will hung his head, before casting his glance out to the port of Miana. He saw the ocean outside, dull in the half-light, and shrouded in mist. Where was Jack out there? Nakuri had assured him he was not dead.

"Maybe you will someday," Will whispered. "Maybe someday I'll get out from here. Then, I can find him..." He looked back and Ella. "You can come with me. You and I can find Jack. I think he would love to meet you also. I would be free of this place. Doesn't it sound too good to be true, too much to ask that I would get out of here? I would probably escape then never be able to find Jack. Or I shall die here as a...blood servant...die at Nakuri's hands, and meet Jack after death."

"But Nakuri can't kill you!" Ella protested. "So stop being so dark. You know that you are protected by the decree of the four elders, so if he kills you he will be exiled. No vampire wants to be an exile from Miana, since they are thought of after that as disgraceful. So don't worry about that part. He won't kill you, and Nakuri is rarely in Miana as it is. And you have been his servant two weeks now and are still alive. If he had any intention to kill you, he would have done so already." Will shook his head.

"Still, I don't trust him. And...who are these elders you speak of? Nakuri mentioned them, but never explained them." Ella nodded before climbing onto the edge of the bed again. She faced Will and held his gaze a long time before beginning.

"The elders are the four first vampires: Larun, Ownitia, Silarn, and Htna. Out of the four, two of them are still living, but we only know the whereabouts of one of them. To begin with, each bloodline has different characteristics, likes, dislikes, and heirlooms. These heirlooms are symbols, passed on from master to fledgling, master being the person who created the vampire, fledgling being the created one. Let's see, how bout Larun's bloodline first.

"Larun is by far the strongest vampire alive. And his bloodline is not much different. Most of the fledglings of that line still carry his power, though it has dwindled some in the passing from master to fledgling, so it is not as strong with some vampires. But, for all of this, Larun is not ruthless. He is a lover of nature, and was actually the one who ordered that plants be planted in this city. Also, he rarely ever kills his meals, even when he is outside of Miana. His fledglings are much like him in this way. I mean, not all of these traits pass to all fledglings, since it does depend a bit on what a person was before, but that's just an overview.

"And Larun is still alive. He, in fact, is here in Miana, lives on one of the hills. Oh, I almost forgot to mention the heirlooms. His heirloom is a knife, with a black hilt and a tree inlayed upon that. It's so pretty! The tree has little gems in it, and the topmost leaf is emerald. Larun has a sword exactly like that. Maybe...maybe sometime I can ask Setia if you can see her knife. She's of Larun's like, you know.

"But I shouldn't dwell on only that, but the knife is so gorgeous. And on Larun's sword...no, Will, I'm stopping! Don't worry. On to Ownitia's line.

"Ownitia was powerful also, almost as powerful as Larun, but she was vain, and flaunted that strength. She was a ruthless killer, rarely sparing a human's life when she fed. Her bloodline is much like this also. They are vain, unforgiving, crave blood and the feel of a human heart stopping as they such the last drop from their veins. Her bloodline is not a weak one, some of the vampires even stronger then those in Larun's bloodline. Her heirloom is a small throwing dagger, with a black blade. Ownitia is no longer alive, though. She died in a way most fitting of her vanity. She died, after being trampled by a horse drawn carriage, on a muddy street, where she lay bleeding for days afterwards and no one came to her aid."

"Wait, stop there," Will said. "Nakuri told me that vampires couldn't die by normal means. So why would she have died like that?" Ella jumped down from the bed and began to pace back and forth, a little bit hunched over. It would have looked very silly, to see a little girl doing that, except that Ella made it seem quite serious.

"Nakuri lied to you. Vampires can die in every way that humans can, except for starvation and sickness. It is true that they do not die as easily, their wounds usually healing faster, things like that. But, with Ownitia, supposedly it was a whole team of horses, not to mention the carriage itself. And after days of sitting in the mud, it's understandable that she would die." Will nodded. With a smile, Ella jumped back to the bed, smoothing out her skirts like a lady and staring at Will with even, measuring eyes. "Shall I go on?"

"The next line is Silarn's line," she said. "Silarn was just as proud as Ownitia, but lacked one crucial part of his boldness: his strength. He was a weak vampire, who thought he could rule the world, but had little power to do it. He loved to pick fights whenever he could, challenging other vampires. Though, for the most part, he lost. Still, his love was to destroy, to kill, and his fledglings are much like that. Silarn died one hundred years after his bloodline began, in a battle with one of his fledglings. The heirloom of this line is a knife with a serpent wound around the hilt. The serpent has rubies for eyes, and etched upon the blade are two serpents, one devouring the other as it screams to the heavens. You won't run across many vampires of this line in Miana. Most have been exiled for killing humans. In fact, the only one you might see is Moyahun—sorry, you would know him as James—though he is for sure soon to be leaving. Actually, James was the one who killed Silarn in battle." Will shivered at the thought of James. Ella put a small hand on his knee and smiled. "It's all right, Will. Let's go on.

"The final bloodline is that of Htna. He only needs one word to describe him: weak. He has very little power, very, very few fledglings, cares for humans immensely, and rarely feeds. There are so few fledglings since he is so hesitant to change anyone, and so are those of his bloodline. His love of humans has made it so that most in his line always seem underfed, since they refrain from feeding as much as they can. They are on the most part frowned upon, and you won't see many of them, either, since they just like to go into hiding. Their heirloom, actually, is not a dagger, but a necklace, with a black rose charm and a dove in the center of that." Ella stopped then and shrugged. "I would say there isn't much else to tell you about the bloodlines. I hoped that was helpful." Will nodded.

"I suppose so," he whispered. He turned away from Ella, staring outside. He shook his head slowly, before turning back to Ella. "Do you think you could leave me alone for a while? I need more time to think." Ella groaned but smiled, giving him a hug before she left.

"But don't think yourself to death," she said. "Maybe tonight you should go downstairs and spend some time socializing. There are many other humans there, Will. You might like it."

----------

"I'm terribly sorry I am late," Setia said, bowing, as she entered the sitting room. It was a spacious place, chairs placed around a central low table. All were full except for one, and there were refreshments at the table, at least, in one area. She took the open chair, the large, plush chair she always claimed at these meetings. Others nodded to her, and she took a glass from the table. She sipped and put it down.

"Don't tell me this is Emily again," she said. The man sitting across from her, on the couch, nodded. He was the only person on the large couch. He wore an amused expression and lifted his glass to her. His face was perfectly white over the rim of the glass, and his eyes were black pits, it seemed. He had fair colored hair, and the only wrinkles on him were around his eyes. Setia felt her heart beating again at his beauty, but she buried those thoughts before he could hear them.

"Yes, Emily is always so generous," he said. "And I am glad you could join us, Setia. You did not keep us waiting long, though. If you would like, I can bring you something else to drink. Gil is present." The man clapped his hands, and Gil, the blacksmith, came forward. He inclined his head to the group.

"No, my lord Larun, I do believe I will pass." Larun shrugged his shoulders and scooted over on the couch all the same. Gil sat down. He was in better order than when Will had seen him, with his hair combed and new clothes, a bath helping to clean up his appearance; without the soot, he was not an ugly man, getting up in years, but obviously one who was attractive before. Larun wrapped his arm around Gil's waist.

"I do hope there are no objections of Gil sitting in on this. If there are, I can send him off." Though spoken casually, the feel of the words through each vampires' mind made it quite clear that Gil was staying. No one spoke. "Well, then, let us being. We have much to cover now.

"First comes the issue of Lady Katrina." Katrina, who had been sitting beside Setia, sat a little taller in her chair. She had done herself up quite beautifully, the black of her hair flowing down her back in curls, her almost-white face shining. "You were in Tortuga, when you sent a messenger, Moyahun, here to warn us of a coming attack. You said that we needed to defend ourselves, and that the Fleeting Dream was lost. Is this true?" Katrina nodded. Even she, the proud lady, showed humility towards Larun.

"Yes, my lord," she responded. "I know you wish to reprimand me on my choice of messenger, being that Moyahun was exiled from the city, but there were no other vampires in the vicinity. If there had been another option, I would have gladly taken that, my lord, yet I could find none. Please, excuse my choice of messenger." She bowed her head. Larun chuckled, then laughing outright.

"I did not come to criticize you, but instead to ask what we must now do with Moyahun. He cannot remain in the city any longer, now that he has killed one human here, and has attempted to kill another. It is not safe to keep him in the city any longer. From here on, I must say he cannot step foot into Miana, no matter who gives him permission or what status he is under. Twice is unforgivable."

"My lord, might I beg his case still? Let him stay one more week within Miana. He has made no more trouble, I assure you, and I assure he will not make any more trouble while I have watch over him. Allow him a little more time in this city. He loves it here."

"He loves _you_ here, Katrina," Larun countered. He turned to Setia. "What would you advise?" Setia smiled.

"I would—I beg forgiveness Katrina—say he must leave here, this evening, and never return. There is no way he could dare to tarnish these streets any farther. Grant him no more time here Katrina. And if you wish it some other way, you may leave with him." Then the room erupted into chaos. Katrina stood, indignant, and her famed temper she had kept so well under control exploded. Setia stood also, trying to reason with Katrina and failing, and whatever tolerance had been between them was gone. Other vampires joined the irate ladies, bickering for either side. Finally, Larun himself rose, and stepped between the two sides. He caught Katrina's hand and Setia's, and exchanged looks with both of them.

"I did not call this meeting so that we would bicker amongst ourselves," he said. "In truth, I called it to have a drink with some old friends of mine!" He grinned and returned to his seat. "I had in mind a happier time than this! I did not want to talk of important matters like these. They bore me, anyway. But I think...now that we started upon this vein, that Moyahun must leave and never return. I am terribly sorry that this grieves you, Katrina, but you are still allowed into the city, so you can come and go as you please, visiting him when you wish. Now that that is settled, who wishes to have a little party?" Larun smiled.

Setia settled back on the chair again, as the vampire began to chat amongst themselves. For the most part these vampires were important and held high status in Miana. In other words, most were the first in bloodlines. They were often called together by the lord Larun for "meetings" as these, though usually Larun tired quickly of official matters in the city and called off the meeting halfway through, calling it a "party" instead. She liked these parties, for sure, but found it more enjoyable at her inn, where she could mingle with the humans and the more common vampires. There was always a feeling of tension when they were around Larun, especially when Gil was in the room. None of the vampires wished to offend Larun's...lover, for lack of better word. He was his blood servant, and they had grown quite close through the years of Gil's service. Setia watched the man with narrowed eyes. He had cleaned himself up, and really, once he looked presentable, he was not ugly. Sure, he had a crippled leg, but his face was good looking, and he was muscled. It was no wonder Larun took an attraction to him.

Setia was jealous.

As were probably most females in the room. Larun had charmed even the most sensible vampires by his good looks and disposition. But he had only eyes for the human, Gil. And Gil was unwavering in his devotion and would not assist anyone who wanted to get close to Larun. Not that that was really a problem. Larun threw enough parties that anyone could at least chat with him. And as Setia looked around the room, she could tell that most of the women here had tried, at least once, to get close to Larun. Even Katrina, who (though she never appeared to be) was so unwavering in her love for James, had attempted, unsuccessfully, to seduce Larun.

And Setia? What of her attempts? She had tried, yes, before Larun met Gil, and...had succeeded. She had been one of Larun's fledglings directly, his favorite pupil. So...so many years ago that Setia did not care to look back. Of course, through those centuries, her love was unwavering. And, Larun knew. He knew as he looked up and saw Setia studying him, as he smiled at her.

_Let it be, _he whispered. _Do you want to talk later? But your inn is awaiting your, Setia. Go there; don't linger here, little one. _Setia blocked her thoughts in her head, knowing Larun had been listening to all of them. With a blush on her cheeks, she rose.

"I'm sorry, but I have to leave now," she announced. "If we have no more business, I need to get back to my inn." She left the room hastily, hoping her host would not wish to show her to the door.

But waiting for her in the foyer was Larun. His arms were crossed, though he smiled when she approached him.

"Don't be afraid of Gil," he said. "And don't be afraid of your fear. It is such a human emotion, but you should not hate it. You were human once, remember?" He took her in his arms, and Setia collapsed into his embrace.

"Human once...but not now." Larun shook his head and smoothed back her hair.

"There is nothing wrong with human emotions. Leave those behind and you become a heartless killer. Leave behind confusion and you become nothing. Remember to stay human." He bent down and placed a kiss on Setia's lips. "Maybe later this evening Gil and I will stop into your inn. There is a man there I would much like to meet, Gil says: William Turner."

"Yes, he's a nice lad," Setia said, still stunned by the kiss. Then her eyes narrowed. "But, Larun, will you feel guilt over that kiss? Or is that an emotion that you can wipe away?" Larun backed away, shaking his head.

"Maybe I've taught you wrong," he said. It was the phrase he used every time one of his fledglings questioned him, only raising more questions in their heads. He nodded to Setia and disappeared, back to the party.

Still, as Setia turned away to walk home, she thought she had seen a bit of despondency in his black eyes. Larun had always loved questions, confusion. Setia looked back to the glowing windows of the house. She heard Larun's laughter inside and shook her head.

----------

Shouts rang out from the large gathering on the inn's bottom floor. Will was sitting in his study, scribbling something down on a piece of paper, but constantly stopping because of this noise or that. A song started up, far off key, but joyous. Will closed his eyes and resumed his writing. He had taken to recording information about the vampires, simply to keep his mind active. Currently, he copied down what Ella had told him of the bloodlines.

_"Maybe tonight you should go downstairs and spend some time socializing." _Will winced as something crashed downstairs. He wasn't yet in a mindset to join in the happiness downstairs. His mood would just darken it. He could not take a drink down there; those drinks would bring him no joy. Still, hearing the laughter downstairs, he thought about Ella's words. He had had little contact with humans, spending most days locked in his room and turning in for bed early. In fact, he had only really had contact with Setia and Ella; not even Nakuri had stopped by since that night he bound Will to him. He rose from his chair, setting the piece of paper aside. He slipped into new clothes (he had bought them a few days before, promising the storeowner that he would pay him back once he found a job in the city) and pulled back his hair again. Taking a breath to calm himself, he left for the downstairs.

The hall was lit up, a fire burning cheerfully in the large fireplace. People were scattered all through the main area. Will scanned the crowds for a familiar face; he did see Setia, and the dressmaker girl, Alaren. Much to his surprise, Ella was also there, right by Setia's side as she bustled around making sure all her guests were happy. He made his way down the stairs and slipped into the crowd.

A few people called out to him, welcoming him, inviting him into their conversation. He smiled and turned away from all of them, a little hesitant to mingle. But it was not long before Ella looked up and saw him, wandering lost. The little girl pulled on Setia's dress, dragging her towards Will.

"Will, Will, you came!" Ella squealed. She danced around Will. "I'm so glad you're here. You need to me everyone now. Setia can introduce you!" Setia smiled and inclined her head.

"I hope you're doing well, Will. You look better than you were last week. Here, do you want something to drink? No, then food? Anything? Yes, Ella, I know he needs to meet my friends, now hush. Oh, don't give me that look, you rascal." Ella clasped Will's hand tightly as Setia guided him back to the group she had been conversing with. She introduced each one; most, Will noted, looked more...human, for lack of better word. He smiled and made small talk with them, calming down as each minute passed. They were friendly and unbothered it appeared, by the life they were living. It was nothing to them that they were trapped on the island with vampires using them as food. Will did not let his fears on, though, instead laughing with them. Ella, all the while, clung to his hand. She would make some comment here and there, and much to Will's surprise, the others treated her with the respect of an adult. _Well, she does seem different. Is she a vampire? Is that why they treat her like an adult? _They already seemed to know he was once part of the crew of the Fleeting Dream. They quite admired that he had been on the ship for five years without leaving. He told them that he loved it on the ship, nothing about before that time. But they were happy to give out their stories. From them, as the hours ticked away, he learned much of the workings of the Fleeting Dream.

"I was in...some port town in Spain, on a holiday; I can't remember the name of it now, since it's been years. I was looking at some of the ships and a few men approached me. They asked me if I wanted to have some drinks with them. We got to talking, and I told them I liked exotic places. They told me about an island they knew of, a beautiful place, and that they would sail there on their way back to the Caribbean. I agree to go with them, as drunk as I was, and also since they had spoken so highly of this island, a supposed jewel of beauty. They brought me here; at first, I was skeptical of the place, but I grew to love it. I have been here since I was around your age, Mr. Turner (the man talking was now probably around fifty), and it is not a bad place. It is beautiful, and I can understand why the vampires would want to be in seclusion like this. It also helps to make sure not more humans are killed by them, since here they have servants."

"Doesn't it ever disturb you you're their food, though?" Will asked. He himself had had a few drinks finally (at the pressuring of the other guests), and he had very little tolerance for alcohol. He was getting very drunk. Before, he had been careful not to ask questions that might upset the others, but now he wanted answers. Ella tugged at his hand, and he ignored her.

"I don't really mind it. I mean, my vampire rarely comes to feed on me, so it's not bad." Another man, a little younger shook his head.

"Mine comes every night, and after a while you get used to it. And, of course, if you have a woman, and she's pretty..." the man chuckled. Ella grumbled something about "perverted drunk fools" and strode off to find Setia, who had long left the group. Now it was only humans. "So, who's yours...what's your name again? Will, right? Man or woman? She pretty?"

"It's a man, and he hasn't actually come since he bound me, which was two weeks ago." The man took another swig of his drink.

"Shame, shame; the women here are so pretty." He lowered his voice. "Especially the dressmaker, Alaren, now there's a beauty. Wouldn't you just love..." The older man hushed him.

"You shouldn't talk about them that way, you know. She knows you're talking about her." Will looked up and saw that, yes, Alaren was looking their way. She smiled and winked at Will. "It's a shame, Mr. Turner, there are the likes of him here. But he's bound, so they can't do anything about it. He has to stay here." A third man, who had been silent most of the time, engrossed in his drinks, suddenly spoke up.

"I came here because I was bound to a vampire before, and he wanted to move to Miana. He is nice, never asks much of me, and lets me do as I will. He's probably moving away again, and so off I'll go with him. I have a free home wherever I go, and he pays for all of my meals and clothes. I'd say this is a good life. You don't like it though, do you, boy?" He turned to Will. Will sighed.

"I had too much of a life outside of this. I want to get back to that. And I still don't trust this place. It's so different from the outside world. Maybe...maybe I will come to like it, though." Will looked up again, and his eyes drifted back to Alaren. She had her eyes fixed on him and grinned when he looked up.

_You don't like it here, William? _Will looked back at the group and joined in the conversation, but Alaren was in his head now. _You should be very happy here. These men think you're quite a talkative fellow, and will probably want to join you for a drink more often. I like you too, William. You've won over my heart. _

"Do you have a woman out there?" the younger man asked. Will smiled, let out a long sigh.

"Yes, yes," he lied. In his head, Jack was grinning, and he could guess quite well how Jack would have taken to being called the "woman" of their relationship. If Jack was even alive. Will bowed his head and reached for his drink, but it was empty. "H...she doesn't know that I'm here, so I'm worried she thinks I'm dead. I was caught in a storm at sea, and the Fleeting Dream rescued me. I don't know what happened to rest of the ship, if anyone aboard even survived. She probably thinks I'm dead. I...I don't even know if she's alive."

_Now stop telling lies, William dear. You know _he _is alive and well, and he thinks you're as good as gone. Jack Sparrow, that's his name? _Will tried to push Alaren from his mind, but she would not leave him alone. _Oh, but come on William. You are so handsome and lonesome at the same time. Why don't you come back upstairs to your room? _Will felt a strange sensation in his head, as if part of him was not his own anymore. _I'll be waiting_.

"Will, Will, did you hear me?" Will looked back to the group. One of the men had left, the younger one, and he was off talking to a woman he had seen come in. The other two were still looking at Will.

"I don't know if he's alive," Will muttered. He stood up, swaying back and forth, and almost toppled to the ground. The other two men caught him in time.

"You're far gone, lad, and with only a few drinks. You have no stomach for it." Will chuckled. His head was very light, and all he could think about was returning to his room.

"Jack said that," Will said, chuckling. "Jack always said that."

"Is Jack one of your friends? Now go on, you've had enough drink."

"I should go to my room," Will said. He staggered towards the stairs. One of the men called after him.

"Come join us tomorrow night!" Will clutched the railing of the staircase and made his way back up, only stumbling a few times. The hallway above was dark, but he managed, by leaning on the wall, to get back to his room. He found the door already open once he made it there and staggered inside. He could go no further than the first room and fell upon the couch, groaning. His head was really spinning now, and he was almost ready to faint.

"Don't faint, William," a voice called to him. He opened his eyes and saw Alaren standing over him. She put her hand to his face. "You are so handsome. I think you can keep yourself awake a little longer. You look like you haven't had any fun in quite a long time."

"Jack...where is Jack?" Will's head felt so heavy, and he wanted only to drift away, but Alaren would not let him. Something in the back of his mind, that piece that was no longer his told him to stay conscious just a little longer. Alaren giggled and pushed away a strand of hair from Will's face.

"Jack is currently sailing back to the Caribbean, away from this island. He was here, Will. I'm sure you know; you saw his sword." Will let out a sob. Alaren leaned over him, her faces inches from him. "He has given up on you now, and knows he cannot reach you. He will find another, William. Why don't you forget too?" She brushed a finger over his lips. "There is no reason you should remember him."

"I love him," Will whispered. Alaren sighed, all the while smiling at Will.

"_No you do not, William. You should forget he ever existed." _The words rang in Will's head and ears, making his head spin and ache. He looked into Alaren's black eyes; saw how in the darkness her white skin seemed to glow. So perfectly white when the moon rested upon it, the moon outside over the harbor...

"The ocean," Will said. "Jack..." Alaren shook her head and bent lower over Will. She placed her lips on his, ever so gently, and her fangs brushed Will's lips. _Isn't it wonderful? _Alaren whispered in his head; Will closed his eyes, relaxing in her touch. He reached up to hold her face, as that corner of his mind told him to do. She pulled away from him ever so slightly, but he groaned and she brought back down her lips. Her hair fell around Will, tickling his face and neck. He opened his eyes once more to look on her, and her skin was all white with the moon upon it...

"Alaren, what have I told you about not seducing my servants?" a voice called from the doorway. "Love, it hurts me you would so shamelessly kiss him when you knew I would be coming for him tonight." Alaren stood up, and Will felt his mind slipping back into blackness. His stomach churned, not only from the alcohol, but also as he thought back to Jack. He felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, knowing he had betrayed his love.

"Nakuri, dear, I did not mean to hurt you. I am so sorry." Will saw Alaren approach Nakuri, who was standing in the doorway, and wrap her arms around his neck. He smiled and kissed the base of her neck, his arms around her waist. "Will you forgive me?" Nakuri grinned and pulled her into a long kiss.

"Yes, I forgive you," he said. "But I need some time alone with Will right now, Alaren. And...do not try to seduce him again. In fact, please don't seduce any more men if you can. I love to have you all for myself." Alaren giggled. She looked back and curtsied to Will.

"Maybe we can meet again, but not in the same circumstances as before." With that, she was gone, closing the door behind her. Will tried to sit up to watch Nakuri, but he could not make his muscles move. Nakuri looked at Will with a mixed expression. He finally made his way to the couch and knelt beside Will.

"I've waited to give you time to acclimate and come to terms with your new life here, but I can wait no longer Will," Nakuri said, then he laughed. "And I also must apologize for my lover. I think that sometimes she believes she has the right to take all of the new men here at least once for her own. It's troublesome for me, of course, since there are so few men who resist her."

"What?" Will mumbled. Nakuri shook his head.

"I'm sorry Will, but this is something a blood servant must do occasionally. Just relax; you will probably faint halfway through it as it is. You shouldn't worry though, and don't struggle. I won't try to kill you like Moyahun did." Nakuri put his lips to Will's neck, and Will felt the fangs pierce his skin. He groaned and tried to fight back, but blackness crept through his mind.

_Please don't struggle. Think about something other than this. Think about Jack. _Will closed his eyes and let images of Jack float through his head. Jack smiled at him through the haze and made some comment about Will's position. Then, the vision changed and Will saw a ship over waters where the sun was just beginning to rise. He thought he saw his lover on the deck, leaning over the railing. The ship was not moving, waiting instead for full daylight and more favorable winds. He called out to Jack, and thought he saw Jack turn, but before he could say more he lost consciousness, and the vision faded.

Nakuri stood after he had had his fill. He lifted Will from the couch and carried him back to the bedroom, setting him down on the bed. His face fell as he looked at Will, so peaceful now in the darkness. He knew that Will was always looking out to the ocean where his other life rested, his lover. Nakuri sat on the edge of the bed and held Will's hand. He had known Will's pain, once, hundreds of years before. The youthful face, the other lad's eagerness to serve Nakuri, always faithful, always adoring: it was something time could not erase. Alaren? Oh, she was simply something temporary to help the pain, nothing more. Nakuri stood up and looked at the bedroom window, masked by curtains now.

"You should remember this Will: we too are human, as you might not think. We have many curses upon us now, as do humans, and many more, one curse probably the harshest of all. Will, we can never forget."

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Well, I hope the fact that this chapter was long makes up for the lack of updates. But...I feel that this chapter was really choppy and a bit rushed. Please, tell me if you think that things are getting really jumbled and confusing, so I can try to fix that in the next few chapters. It's just that now that I've started writing on this story again I have so many ideas for it they are all getting mixed together and I so want to put them in there it's getting confusing in my head. Argh!

And I don't think I'll say expect more updates, but there might be another soon since IT'S SUMMERTIME! No more school, no more school, and lots of time to WRITE! But, there might not be frequent updating since I'm at least trying to add one chapter to each of my stories I'm still updating this summer. But I think this story will get a little more attention, since all these ideas for it are floating around in my head!

Please, please review! It would be nice to know people are still reading this story after the long break without updates.


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